X Wing: Knights of Plooma
by JediMara77
Summary: Luke and Mara are recruited by the Rogues to assist in diplomatic negotiations on a planet where Old Republic Jedi are revered. They are also forced to pretend that they are married...for two long weeks. L/M, Rogues. Written w/ LaneWinree51.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** X-Wing: Knights of Plooma  
><strong>Authors:<strong> JediMara77 and Lane_Winree  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Action, Humor, and lots of Awkward Sexual Tension  
><strong>Timeframe:<strong> 18 ABY, between the Corellian Trilogy and the Hand of Thrawn Duology  
><strong>Thanks:<strong> To George Lucas, Tim Zahn, Mike Stackpole, and Aaron Allston  
><strong>Theme song:<strong> "A Little Less Conversation"  
><strong>Summary:<strong>Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade are recruited by Rogue Squadron to assist in diplomatic negotiations on a backwater, neutral planet where Old Republic Jedi are still revered. To their utter dismay, they are forced to pretend that they are married...for two very long weeks.

* * *

><p><strong>DRAMATIS PERSONAE<strong>

The New Republic Delegation:  
>Luke Skywalker - Jedi Master<br>Mara Jade - businesswoman, captain of the _Jade's Fire_, sometime Jedi apprentice (when she feels like it)  
>Captain Corran Horn - Jedi Knight, Rogue Nine<br>Major Hobbie Klivian - Rogue Four

New Republic Military and Support Staff:  
>General Wedge Antilles - Rogue One, Commanding Officer<br>Colonel Tycho Celchu - Rogue Two, Executive Officer  
>Major Wes Janson - Rogue Three<br>Captain Gavin Darklighter - Rogue Five  
>Captain Inyri Forge - Rogue Six<br>Major Pash Cracken - Rogue Seven  
>Captain Myn Donos - Rogue Eight<br>Lieutenant Ferys Soldam - Rogue Ten  
>Captain Dorset Konnair - Rogue Eleven<br>Flight Officer Eris Rusarian - Rogue Twelve  
>Talon Karrde - information broker, captain of the <em>Wild Karrde<em>

The Plooma Delegation:  
>Jon Gemar - Ploomian Ambassador to the New Republic<br>Valara Lissiri - Director, Ploomian Security Force  
>Murray Dyartes - Intern, Ploomian Security Force<br>Fiolla Flotto - Jedi Historian

* * *

><p><span>CHAPTER 1<span>

"Any idea what this is about?" Corran Horn asked.

Wedge Antilles, Commanding Officer of Rogue Squadron, offered a noncommittal shrug. All he'd been told was that General Cracken needed to speak with him and Corran as soon as possible. "Cracken obviously wants the Rogues for something. I assume it's some combination of PR worthy and dangerous. He'll emphasize the former but in reality it's far more of the latter."

Corran raised a brow. "The fact that I know you're speaking from experience frightens me somewhat."

"Be frightened, Horn. Very, very frightened."

Wedge stretched his arms, trying to get comfortable in the hard-backed chair while they waited patiently in New Republic Intelligence headquarters. Fleetingly, he struggled to recall an instance where he had escaped from Cracken's office with _good _news. Usually any orders from Cracken involved either himself or his entire squadron being sent to dangerous stretches of the Galaxy to engage in affairs that were borderline impossible and decidedly deadly. Take Coruscant one year, wrestle away a backwater world known for its arms manufacturing from the Imperials another year. They all had the same starting point—a visit with General Airen Cracken, head of New Republic Intelligence.

"The General will see you now," the perky secretary said from across the waiting room.

Within seconds, Wedge and Corran were shuffled into Cracken's office, seated in front of his rather ornate looking desk.

"Thank you for arriving so promptly," Cracken said, peering over the top of the datapad in his hands. "I trust you'll want to skip with the pleasantries and get straight to the point, General?"

Offering a faint smile, Wedge nodded. "If you would be so kind."

Cracken reached for a control panel on the side of his desk, depressing a few buttons. The lights in the room dimmed and the holoprojector at the center of the desk came to life, displaying a rather nondescript looking temperate world.

"This is Plooma."

Wedge blinked, turning the name over in his mind a few times. "Plooma? Are you sure that's not some sort of..." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Data entry error?"

The NRI director merely gave him an expressionless stare in return for a few moments before continuing on. "The Ploomian local government has expressed interest in aligning themselves with the New Republic and, I can assure you, the Senate is quite interested in securing their allegiance. Plooma is naturally rich in a key resource."

"And what would that be?" Corran asked.

Cracken shook his head. "That information is classified right now. For the sake of this conversation, we'll call it unobtanium."

"What kind of a stupid name is 'unobtanium?'" Corran asked, earning a sharp glare from Wedge.

"Needless to say, the Senate is quite insistent that we put on a good show for the Ploomians. They want to capitalize on this interest to ensure they commit to the New Republic."

Corran crossed his arms over his chest. "This all sounds easy enough to me. Why drag the Rogues into this?"

"It's not the Rogues specifically this assignment calls for," Cracken explained. "You'll play an important part, but I asked to meet with you two for a reason." He turned off the holoprojector and returned the room's lighting to its normal state. "Plooma isolated itself from galactic politics prior to the fall of the Old Republic. Our preliminary investigation of their culture indicates that they still hold the Jedi in rather high regard. This goes far beyond the respect the Order has earned throughout the New Republic. For the Ploomians it's more of a hero worship."

"So that explains why you asked for Horn," Wedge said, pointing his thumb at his fellow Corellian. "Doesn't explain why you need the rest of my squadron."

Cracken seemed to hesitate for the briefest of moments. "Plooma is situated a few systems away from Bastion and the heart of the Imperial Remnant. It's believed that they also have a vested interest in mining the planet's unobtanium—"

A snicker from Corran briefly interrupted him.

"—And given that they are within striking distance, we believe there is a distinct possibility that armed conflict may arise."

A frown formed on Wedge's face. "You know, General, this is starting to sound awfully familiar. Far-flung, isolated planet with resources both the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant want, strange hero worship, and the potential for the situation to get ugly in a hurry? If you cross off_ Plooma_ on these mission parameters and replace it with _Adumar_, I'd swear that I've already done this before."

"At least you probably won't have to wear a dress this time, sir?" Corran added, earning another cold glare from Wedge.

"I admit the intel you were given for Adumar wasn't up to our normal standards," Cracken said. "I assure you, we've gone to great lengths to ensure this won't happen again. While there is a chance the Remnant could involve themselves in our delegations with the Ploomians, we don't believe the risk is too significant. The Rogues will merely be there as a precaution."

Doing his best to refrain from sighing, Wedge offered a nod. "Very well. I think I've got a grasp on what you're asking of us. Is there anything else we should know about?"

"Nothing pressing, but there is one task that needs to be accomplished before you can depart. Per Senate regulations, the diplomatic envoy will need to be staffed by four members. It's been requested that two more Jedi be added to this mission, in addition to Captain Horn. I will also insist that another Rogue be added to the envoy. I'd like a military presence down there."

"I don't count?" Corran asked.

"Not if you keep bouncing back and forth between Starfighter Command and the Jedi Order, Captain," Cracken countered. "Given that you will be in charge of this operation, General Antilles, I will allow you to select the additional diplomatic staff."

Standing, Wedge snapped a half-hearted salute. "I'll have a set of names forwarded to your desk as soon as I can."

With that, Wedge and Corran left the Director's office.

Wedge fully understood why the Rogues were being asked to participate in this assignment. He was aware of how important it was for the New Republic to secure the allegiance of a planet such as Plooma given the resources it had to offer. Still, Adumar had left a foul taste in his mouth. Being shot at by the Imperials and the locals on what should have been a blue milk run assignment hadn't been enjoyable in the slightest. His last diplomatic mission had been bad enough, but this time NRI and the Senate were dispatching his entire squadron.

Cracken could rationalize and minimize all he wanted, but if this was truly a low-risk mission then another active-duty squadron would have been sent in place of the Rogues. The threat the Imperial Remnant posed to diplomatic relations between Plooma and the New Republic must be greater than what the Director was letting on. Unfortunately, the mandate and assignment had already been handed down. Wedge may not have liked his marching orders, but he would carry them out to the best of his abilities.

"Have anyone in mind to fill out the delegation?" Corran asked.

"I've got one," Wedge said. "I think I'd like to ask them in person. I'm open to suggestions for the second vacancy, though."

Corran rubbed his chin. "I might have someone in mind. I'll get in touch with them and let you know their decision ASAP."

"Sounds good, Horn. I think I'll venture off to speak to my person as well," Wedge replied, and they went their separate ways.

* * *

><p>Corran took a seat at the comm terminal in Rogue Squadron headquarters. It had been only a few hours since he'd spoken with Wedge and Cracken, and he'd spent most of that time deliberating on which Jedi Knight should accompany him to Plooma. When Wedge had first proposed the idea, his thoughts had immediately gone to one person in particular. Corran had initially dismissed the thought, thinking it ridiculous, but the more he thought about it, he knew it was the right decision.<p>

Still, that wasn't going to make this any easier.

Grimacing, Corran input the personal comm frequency that had been provided by his wife, Mirax. A few moments later, a red-haired woman with a scowling expression and hard green eyes appeared on the screen in front of him. "What is it?"

Corran grinned at his friend's typically harsh demeanor. "Hey, Mara. Catch you at a bad time?"

Mara Jade's expression immediately softened as she recognized her friend's voice. "Corran! Hold on one second." He saw her move to flip a switch, and then her eyes locked with his through the HoloNet connection. "Sorry about that. I had the visuals turned off. Skywalker's been bugging me lately."

"Ahh, that explains it," Corran chuckled. Luke Skywalker, the galaxy's only living Jedi Master, had been doing his best to convince Mara to complete her Jedi training since they'd first met almost a decade ago. Corran had met Mara at Luke's Jedi Praxeum seven years earlier, but she, like him, had left before her training was complete. While Corran had later completed his training and become a Jedi Knight, Mara was still running around in the smuggling circles and doing her best to avoid her obvious destiny.

And although Corran would never say it to her face for fear of dismemberment, everyone close to them knew that she and Luke Skywalker obviously held pretty strong feelings for each other, being that they both antagonized the other so well.

He suppressed that thought and focused on Mara's curious expression. "Anyway, I bet you're wondering why I called."

"Yeah, you could say that. What's going on? Mirax mentioned you needed my help with something?"

"Yes…actually, it's not just me, really, but all of Rogue Squadron."

"Oh?" Mara raised an eyebrow.

"Actually…all of the New Republic."

"Oh, yippee," she replied sarcastically. "Go on."

"See, there's a planet interested in joining the New Republic—Plooma."

"Plooma?" Mara repeated incredulously. "Are you making this up?"

"Do you think I could make up a name like that?"

"Good point. Continue."

"As I was saying, Plooma is interested in joining the New Republic. Apparently they've got lots of natural resources that have been relatively untouched, one in particular that is very hard to find, so of course Intelligence wants to swoop in and woo them to our cause."

"Okay, sounds reasonable. What's my part in this?"

"Well, see…" Corran struggled with how to say his next words. He remembered vividly all the blow-ups Mara had with Luke about her Jedi training, and didn't want to incur Mara's wrath. She may not be the Emperor's Hand anymore, but she still had a very short temper.

He decided the direct approach was best to use on Mara Jade.

"Plooma has been isolated from the rest of the galaxy since before the fall of the Old Republic. They managed to stay out of galactic affairs during the Empire's rise to power and the Civil War. As such, they still very much revere the old Jedi Order."

"Okay," Mara said cautiously. "Again, where do I fit in this?"

Corran sighed. This was going to be difficult. "Do you remember the Adumar situation a few years back?"

Mara's eyes widened slightly. "Yes…"

"Intelligence thinks that a similar approach would work well here."

"Let me guess—but using Jedi Knights instead of pilots."

Corran wrinkled his nose. "That's basically it, yeah."

"And my part in this would be…?"

Corran grimaced at the iciness of her voice. "They're sending me since I'm part of Rogue Squadron and a Jedi. General Antilles requested that I ask another Jedi of my choosing. I'm choosing you."

Mara stared at him for long seconds. Corran struggled to hold her gaze without flinching.

"I'm not a Jedi Knight, Corran," she said, her voice deadly soft.

"I know, Mara, but you're close enough that the Ploomans…Ploomians…whatever they're called…won't know the difference. You're the first person who popped into mind."

"Yeah, and why is that?"

"Because if I'm going to have to sit around and participate in boring diplomatic negotiations, I might as well go with someone interesting." She almost cracked a smile at his statement. "See, you agree with me! Everybody else is so boring," he practically whined.

This time, Mara did smile. "Why don't you invite Skywalker? He would love to be a part of your little diplomatic process. Plus it would be a Rogue Squadron reunion."

"No way. I like Luke and all, but being stuck with him like that would be a perfect way to subject myself to lots of boring Jedi Master lectures."

"Whereas with me you could spend your evenings drinking and playing sabacc?"

Corran grinned. "You got it."

Mara gave him a friendly laugh before turning all business again. "As lovely as this proposition sounds, I just can't commit to this right now. My shipping business is starting to take off and I can't leave it to go gallivanting across the galaxy with Rogue Squadron."

"Aw, c'mon, Mara, surely you've got people who work for you. And I'll even ask Mirax to help you out while you're away. You know she'd be more than willing to assist you."

"That's all well and good, but it still doesn't change the fact that I don't want to go advertising myself as a Jedi when I'm not."

"Why not? You afraid Luke will find out and pester you about it?"

Mara's green eyes shot daggers at him, and this time, Corran did flinch. "I can't right now, sorry. I've got better things to do, and besides, this mission sounds like it has the potential to go horribly wrong. Talk to you later, Horn."

He saw her arm move, but he spoke up before she could cut the connection. "You sure about that, Mara? You wouldn't want me telling anyone about the lightsaber incident, would you?"

Mara's arm immediately dropped and she sat up straight in her chair. "What did you say, Horn?"

Corran leaned back and threaded his hands behind his head. "You know—the lightsaber incident."

"I remember," Mara ground out. "What about it?"

"It would be a pity if someone important were to find out about that…someone, say, like Master Skywalker?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would dare."

Mara narrowed her eyes at him, and Corran could see her weighing her options. He smirked. "It's such a fun story, too. And I think that Luke would be _most _interested in hearing it, don't you think?"

She glanced to the side, taking deep breaths while she mouthed out counting to ten. She turned back to him, giving him the coldest of stares. "Fine. You win. But if you think I'm going to make this fun for you, you've got another thing coming."

"Of course you'll make it fun, Mara—remember, lightsaber incident."

Mara huffed.

"Be on Coruscant in a week. I'm sending you some preliminary information now."

"Goodie."

"See you later, Mara. And don't forget to bring your most diplomatic of outfits."

"Oh, go kri—"

Her reply was cut off as Corran severed the HoloNet connection, grinning profusely at no one in particular.

This was going to be a fun trip indeed.

* * *

><p>It had been a long while since Wedge had been to Yavin 4. The last time he had seen the forest moon was the result of a trip to visit the infant Jedi Praxeum with Qwi, or as Iella liked to call her, the One Thing Corran Horn Was Right About. Well, there were other things Iella called her, but those weren't exactly appropriate things to say in polite company. They weren't exactly appropriate things to say in front of a briefing room full of war hardened pilots, either. Perhaps the quickest way to bring out Iella's wrath was to simply mention the name Qwi Xux.<p>

Admittedly, everyone that had told Wedge that it would never work out between himself and Qwi had been right. He probably should have listened to Corran all those years ago. And Wes. And Hobbie. Not to mention Tycho, Inyri, Gavin, Kell, Face, Myn...

Shaking his head, Wedge dialed his flightpath for atmospheric approach. Before long the cloud layer gave way to Yavin 4's treetops. In the distance, he could make out the ancient temples that had once served as the Rebellion base of operations. A chill ran down his spine as he recalled the frantic escape they had made following the destruction of the Emperor's first Death Star. With the nearly complete loss of Red Squadron, Wedge had been folded into Renegade Flight under the command of Arhul Narra. Before long the flight would split in two, forming the early incarnation of Rogue Squadron.

Had that really been eighteen years ago?

As he approached the ground, Wedge kicked on the repulsorlifts and cut back power to his thrusters. Skillfully he eased his X-Wing into the Praxeum's hangar and set down with the gentlest of thuds. Wedge went through his power-down sequence before keying for the canopy release. Almost immediately he was hit with a rush of hot and humid air, bringing back even more memories of his time on the moon. They all had been eager to get away from the stuffy atmosphere. Then they wound up on Hoth.

"Well, I can't say I expected to see you drop by today," a familiar voice called from the ground below.

Wedge grinned and undid the straps holding him to the flightseat, peering over at Luke. "Well I was in the area and thought I'd pop in to say hi. Think you can bring a ladder over here?"

"Sorry, we don't have starfighter ladders here," Luke said. "I prefer my students get the chance to practice using the Force to decelerate their falls."

"You're kidding."

"Of course I am, I'll have one wheeled over for you."

Twenty minutes later, Wedge was seated with Luke in the rather spacious mess hall. Most of the students were apparently busying themselves with their studies, leaving Luke with a rare moment of downtime. For a long while they merely talked about everything and nothing at all. Luke asked how Iella and Syal were doing. Wedge told him that they were fine and they were expecting a second child later in the year.

"So why are you really here, old friend?" Luke finally asked, propping an elbow on the table.

"What?" Wedge asked defensively. "I can't pay a visit to my former boss and check up on him?"

"Not when you're commanding the Rogues. Or are you back working for Ackbar again?"

Wedge rolled his eyes, "I'm with the Rogues. Actually, that's why I'm here."

Luke raised a brow.

"How would you like to get away from here for a little while?" Wedge asked. "Nothing much, just some diplomatic nonsense. Go in, shake a few hands, put on a show, return home as heroes of the New Republic. Or something."

"And if this is so routine," Luke said, "why are the Rogues involved? Isn't diplomatic escort a little beneath your skill sets?"

Wedge rubbed the back of his neck. "Well. There is the little fact we'll be going to a world that may or may not be on the Remnant's wish list right now."

"Hence why the Rogues are involved."

"Correct."

"And why you're asking me."

"Well, that and the fact that the planet we're trying to recruit reveres the Jedi Knights," Wedge stated.

"Reveres Jedi Knights?" Luke repeated. "Well, that _would_ be a nice change of pace."

"Exactly," Wedge smiled. "The planet is called Plooma—"

_"Plooma?"_ Luke echoed skeptically.

Wedge shook his head. "Yes, Plooma. I said the same thing. Anyway, NRI wants to use Jedi as part of the diplomatic envoy, to get in good with the Ploomians."

"And as the head Jedi, you thought you'd ask me?"

"That about sums it up," Wedge said. "Cracken assures me the chance for conflict will be low, but it would be nice to have another former Rogue involved. So how does a paid vacation away from the daily rigors of the Jedi Academy sound to you, Luke?"

"I don't know," the Jedi Master replied with a shrug. "I can't just up and leave. I've got responsibilities and things I have to—"

A shout from the hallway interrupted him. "Master Skywalker! I think Kyp broke his leg again!" Luke winced, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over his temples.

"Third time this week," Luke grumbled. "So...when can we get going?"

"Would now work?" Wedge responded.

"That'll do just fine."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Colonel Tycho Celchu, Rogue Squadron's Executive Officer, looked over the collection of Rogues before him. Some were dutifully prepared to take notes on flimsiplast notepads or their datapads. Others looked as if they had been up all night. The bags under Wes Janson's eyes could only mean that he had been up to something. What that was, Tycho was pretty sure he didn't want to find out. There were days when ignorance truly was bliss. Better to leave things like that to the imagination than seek out answers and confirm your suspicions.

Besides, if Wes had done anything truly outlandish, he'd probably be in the medwing again. At least Tycho didn't have to worry about him trying to rig up condiment explosives anymore.

Something was amiss, though. Where was Corran Horn? It wasn't like him to miss briefings. Come to think of it, he'd been conspicuously absent the last several days. The last Tycho had heard, he was busy trying to get his 'volunteer' up to speed for the Rogues' upcoming assignment. Horn still must have been hard at work on that end. Shaking his head, Tycho decided to start without him. Corran could catch up later.

"Morning boys and girls," Tycho said. "What say we get down to business?"

"Someone turn the Colonel off," Wes said. "It's too early for this."

Ignoring Wes, Tycho continued. "We've got a new assignment from NRI that we'll be tending to for the next few weeks." He waited for the inevitable groans to subside. Requests from the New Republic's Intelligence branch were usually frowned upon by Starfighter Command pilots. "We're on escort duty for a diplomatic envoy."

"Escort duty?" Inyri Forge asked from the back of the room. "I don't mean to sound smug, but isn't that a bit below our skillset level? Any particular reason Cracken is requesting us?"

"Captain Forge, I'm glad you asked," Tycho said. He reached for the control panel atop his podium, dimming the lights and activating the holoprojector beside him. A starmap with a pair of highlighted regions appeared on the display. "We're being sent out to the Sierra sector in the Outer Rim territories. I imagine none of you are overly familiar with it, but you may be familiar with the star system it borders."

He gestured to the second highlighted region. "This would be the Sartinaynian system, home to Bastion and the Imperial Remnant."

"Cracken thinks there's potential for trouble?" Myn Donos asked.

Tycho nodded. "Potential, yes. General Cracken has assured us that we will merely be there as a precaution. NRI doesn't expect any sort of flare-up while the delegation is there."

"How reassuring," Derek "Hobbie" Klivian said from his seat near the front of the briefing room. "Where have I heard this one before?"

Wes raised a hand. "Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! I know!"

"Members of the diplomatic delegation are still forthcoming," Tycho said, ignoring the two senior Rogue officers, as well as his own unpleasant memories of the Adumar situation five years prior. "We'll be operating on typical escort duty parameters. There will be a safehouse setup that will serve as our base of operations. Once there, we'll operate on shifts patrolling the planet and the immediate sector. Bring along some music; chances are you'll all be facing some long shifts with nothing to do but stare at a starfield."

"You mean it's possible for us to fly our X-Wings and not get into a life-and-death fight?" Gavin Darklighter asked with mock incredulity.

Dorset Konnair patted Darklighter on the shoulder. "I sometimes forget some of you have never been in a regular squadron. Let me explain the meaning of the word 'routine' to you..."

Tycho shut off the holoprojector and returned the briefing room to its normal ambient lighting. "We don't have a definitive timetable yet, but expect to head to Plooma within the next few days. Once the diplomatic team has been fully assembled and briefed, we'll be off. Questions anyone?"

Silence filled the room for a few moments. Eventually, Janson's hand shot back into the air. Tycho scanned over the room, hoping that someone else would speak up. Sighing, he nodded towards Wes.

"The planet's called Plooma?" Wes asked, laughter edging in on his voice.

"Yes," Tycho replied, inwardly groaning. "Plooma."

"Plooma," Wes said aloud, looking thoughtful for a moment. "It kind of rolls off the tongue. _Ploo_ma. Ploo_ma_. Plooooooooooooma."

"If that will be all—"

"Plooooooooooomaaaaaaaaaaaa."

"You're dismissed," Tycho finished.

Gathering his stack of notes and his datapad, he left the briefing room before Wes could say _Plooma _one more time. Tycho made his way down the hallway, thinking that he should probably try and track down Corran to at least pass along a datacard with the briefing notes. Just as he was about to enter the rec room where he thought Corran might be, he felt his comlink go off. With a sigh, he fished it out of his pocket and thumbed it on.

"Celchu."

A voice belonging to one of the base's junior communication officers responded, "Colonel, there's a message coming in through encrypted HoloNet traffic for you."

"Thank you, I'll take it in my quarters."

He quickly made his way back to his living quarters and took a seat in front of his information terminal. Entering his access credentials, the terminal connected to the HoloNet feed on an audio-only link.

"Tycho, it's Wedge," a static-garbled voice said. "I'm a couple hours from getting back to base with one of our delegates. Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure thing," Tycho replied.

"Gather Wes and Hobbie and try to get a hold of Corran. Meet me in briefing room thirty-six."

With that, the feed cut off. Tycho shook his head and thumbed on his comlink again. It looked like he would have to listen to Wes giggle like a child for a little while longer.

* * *

><p>Mara Jade had arrived on Coruscant a few days prior, and Corran had spent the majority of his time getting her up to speed for their impending mission, not to mention trying to calm her growing frustrations. They were talking over a cup of caf when he got the message from Tycho saying that Wedge was only a few hours away from Coruscant, and to get over to Rogue Squadron headquarters for a briefing with the fully-assembled delegation. Corran mentally smacked himself, realizing that he had forgotten the morning's briefing, but Tycho had apparently decided not to lay on the kitchen duty in punishment.<p>

Mara stared at him with a blank expression as Corran read the message aloud from his datapad. "So, this is it, then," she said, shaking her head. "You've really roped me into this."

"Sorry, Mara," Corran said as they headed back to base. "If I was going to be miserable doing this, I just had to drag you along, too."

"You're such a pal."

"I know."

They walked in silence for the next few minutes. "So. Who're the other two saps Antilles dragged into this mess?" Mara finally asked.

Corran shrugged. "I actually don't know. It'll be another Jedi, along with a Rogue—probably either Tycho, Wes, or Hobbie, since they have diplomatic experience."

"I don't know if I'd count what happened on Adumar as a _diplomatic experience_," she pointed out.

"Me neither, but I'm not the one in charge."

"Thank the Force for that."

"Lightsaber incident."

"Shut up."

Corran grinned.

An hour later, they were sitting in one of Rogue Squadron's briefing rooms, waiting impatiently. Wes was repeating "Plooma" over and over, while Tycho and Hobbie were reading their datapads, trying desperately to ignore him. Mara's hand was inching closer and closer to her lightsaber. Corran sighed, deciding not to dissuade her from killing Wes, and checked his chrono. Wedge and his Jedi recruit should be arriving at any moment.

Corran glanced over at Mara, her Force sense as annoyed and disinterested as ever. Sensing him watching her, she shot him a disgusted look. "Lightsaber incident," he mouthed. Before she could retort, he sensed two people approaching the briefing room and breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah, that'll be our fearless leader now," he announced. He turned towards the door—

And Mara suddenly slammed her hands down on the table with brute force, forcing Hobbie to jump in his chair and Wes to trail off mid-syllable on one of his _Ploooooomaaaaaaaaaaaas_. Tycho merely raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Mara turned to Corran again, the glare on her face much, _much _more annoyed than before, but before he could even give her a questioning glance, the door to the briefing room opened—

And in stepped Wedge, along with the Jedi he had recruited for this mission. Upon seeing who it was, Corran immediately grimaced and covered his face with his palm. The other Rogues, even Tycho, couldn't suppress their laughter.

Luke Skywalker greeted his old friends cheerfully, then his face lit up as he saw Mara sitting at the table. "Mara! So you're in on this, too? Excellent!"

Very slowly, Mara tore her glowering gaze from Corran and gave Luke a sickly fake smile. "Well if it isn't the great Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. I should have known they wouldn't have been able to resist dragging you into this."

Ignoring her animosity, Luke crossed the room in several long strides and opened his arms to Mara. Surprisingly, as annoyed as she was, she stood up and returned the hug—just briefly.

When she'd settled back in her seat, she hissed, "I swear, I'm going to _kill_ someone for this."

"You always want to kill someone; go for something with a little more meaning," Corran pointed out, unable to resist teasing her.

Before Mara could smack him, he heard a cough from the doorway, then turned around to see Wedge gesturing towards the hallway. Wedge excused the two of them and they left the room. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Corran finally broke the silence.

"Oops?"

"Oops? That's all you can say, Horn? _Oops?"_

"Hey, I didn't know you were asking Luke!" Corran defended himself. "If I'd have known that, I certainly wouldn't have asked Mara."

"Why _did_ you ask Mara, anyway?" Wedge asked. "I thought she's not a Jedi?"

"No, not _technically_…but she might as well be, and I thought she'd be best for the job."

"Meaning you wanted someone to tag along on this mission whom you could get drunk with in the evenings?"

"Maybe?"

Wedge sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I could _feel_ her antagonism and I don't even have the Force. This is bad, Corran—very bad."

His CO had a point...but suddenly, Corran realized all the entertainment potential this mission just gained. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Or...it _could _be very _good_. You and Iella finally hooked up on a diplomatic mission, remember?"

Wedge shook his head. "If this was any other situation, then yes, it would be highly entertaining and I'd be excited as anyone to see the sparks fly. But we need to be on our best behavior for the Ploomians. You know as well as I do that that won't happen now."

"Okay, maybe the two of them are a little bit…explosive…but I think you're over exaggerating. They managed to make it through the Thrawn crisis fine, and that was back when Mara actually really did want to kill him, so this should be a piece of ryshcate.

"Besides, boss," Corran continued, "_I'm _the one who's going to be stuck with them."

"And you're going to enjoy every minute while you try to play matchmaker."

"You got me. Yes, I am."

"Get back inside."

Corran took his seat next to Mara, all too aware that she and Luke were staring intently at each other from across the table. He briefly wondered if they were conversing through the Force, but his thought was interrupted when Wedge began to speak.

"Luke, Mara—thank you for accepting this mission. I know you're both very busy and we appreciate you taking the time to assist the New Republic."

"Anytime, Wedge," Luke replied, smiling.

"My pleasure," Mara growled.

"I trust Corran has been briefing you about the situation?" Wedge asked Mara.

"Well, he left out _some_ pieces of information," Mara said, glancing over at Luke, "but yeah, I get the gist."

"Excellent. We'll be heading out to Plooma—"

Wes began giggling incessantly.

"—Shortly, but before we do that we have one last thing to take care of." Wedge took a piece of flimsi out of his pocket and tore it into three strips—two the same size, one shorter than the others. "Cracken wants another Rogue to fill the last spot of the diplomatic envoy, and I'd like it to be somebody with diplomatic experience. Unfortunately, our diplomatic experience is limited to the Adumar situation, and I need to be at the safehouse, so that leaves you three." He gestured at Tycho, Wes, and Hobbie.

Tycho nodded. Wes grinned maniacally. Hobbie grimaced.

"To make this as fair as possible…" Wedge trailed off, holding up the pieces of flimsi in his hand so they all appeared to be the same length. The three men each grabbed a piece, then held them up to compare. Tycho seemed slightly relieved when his piece matched Wes's, although Wes seemed overtly disappointed.

* * *

><p>Hobbie Klivian stared at the treacherous slip of flimsi in his hands. Slowly, he looked up and met his CO's gaze.<p>

Wedge shrugged. "Guess you're it, Hobbs. Better pack your dress uniform."

Hobbie slowly looked around the room, taking in his fellow diplomats. Corran was glancing back and forth at Luke and Mara, grinning wickedly. Luke looked more than excited at the prospect of an uninterrupted span of time in which he could bug Mara about her Jedi training. Mara herself looked positively murderous, even more so than usual.

Hobbie sighed and looked back down at the little strip of flimsi that had damned him to this fate.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Plooma was a rather unassuming looking planet.

On approach, there weren't any unique features that couldn't be found on other worlds. Oceans covering a fair percentage of the surface, continents with various climates. Some green forestation, some tan deserts. Without an intelligence report, Wedge would have been hard pressed to give a reason as to why the Republic was so interested in securing Plooma's allegiance. Of course, even with an intelligence report Wedge still was having a hard time figuring out just what it was the Republic was after.

The Rogues had set down in a clearing several kilometers outside of the capital city. NRI had been kind enough to at least establish a base of operations before their arrival, complete with a rather impressive inventory of surveillance and monitoring equipment. Spread throughout the safe house building itself were various monitors and audio gear, all tapped into security feeds throughout the capitol city. Hopefully with that, it would be relatively simple to track the diplomatic envoy's movements and secure their safety.

_Hopefully their safety is never in question,_ Wedge said to himself.

Stepping into the primary operations room, he nodded towards Captain Forge. She seemed to be busying herself at one of the audio listening posts. "Seen Wes around anywhere, Captain?"

"No," Forge replied tersely. "I'm actually trying to avoid him. I swear if I hear him say 'Plooooooooooma' one more time, I'm going to borrow Corran's lightsaber and perform some elective surgery."

Doing his best to suppress a grin, Wedge managed a nod. "Try to leave his limbs in place at least. He needs those to fly."

"Yes, sir."

An electronic buzzing from a nearby console caught his attention. Striding over to it, Wedge depressed a button. "Outpost Three-Nine-Theta."

"Morning, Wedge," a familiar voice said over the subspace radio. "Thought I'd let you know that we're going in for approach."

"I appreciate the heads up, Mirax," he replied with a smile. "How was the trip?"

"For the last two days I've had a Jedi Master and a smuggler screaming at each other, my husband has been alternating between playing peacemaker and encouraging them to sleep with each other, and Hobbie has been brooding in the navigator's seat. You aren't paying me enough to do this."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Wedge rubbed his fingers over the console's microphone. "What was that, Mirax? You're breaking up."

"Wedge, I'm serious, someone better increase the payment because this deserves hazard pay. Skywalker and Jade are in the hold yelling over _ration bars_ right now."

He looked over to Inyri for help. She only offered a shrug in response. "We're ah, having some equipment failure here. I'll have to cut the feed, tell everyone I wish them the best of luck."

"Wedge don't you—"

With a sigh, he cut off the radio link and rubbed his eyes. This was definitely one diplomatic team he was thankful not to be a part of. The last thing he needed in this lifetime was to play referee for Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade. For a brief moment, he felt badly for poor Hobbie. He'd be putting up with that pair for two weeks. Wedge wondered idly if he should have volunteered for the assignment himself. Then the thought of Jade's angry green eyes popped into his mind.

"Sorry, Hobbs," Wedge muttered to himself as he walked out of the operations room, heading towards the state house where the delegation would be having their first meeting.

* * *

><p>The <em>Pulsar Skate <em>set down with a rather jarring thud. Hobbie suspected Mirax was still in a foul mood, for her landings typically were more graceful than that. Still, he knew better than to ask for an explanation. The only person on this ship with a temper more foul than Mara Jade was Mirax Terrik Horn. Picking up his day bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he quietly made his way towards the exit ramp. As he rounded a corner, an all too familiar sound of shouting could be heard.

"What part of 'I'm not interested in coming back to the Praxeum' did you not get, Skywalker?" Mara yelled.

Luke held up his hands defensively. "I just thought you might want to stop in for a visit."

"Who the hell visits Yavin IV for pleasure?"

"Masochists, sadists, the occasional Sith Lord," Corran mused aloud, earning a harsh glare from Luke.

Hobbie rolled his eyes. Two weeks with three high-strung Jedi? What had he done to the Galaxy to deserve this? Certainly there were better ways to get even with him. Causing his X-Wing to crash and forcing him to spend a month in a bacta bath would be a good start. Perhaps getting into an accident that cost him another limb. Truthfully, Hobbie would rather spend two weeks listening to Tycho drone on about astrogation theory than put up with this.

He cleared his throat to get the attention of the Jedi. "We're here. Kindly stop bickering like children and look like good little diplomats, please."

That earned a nasty look from Mara. "Fine. Sooner we start this, sooner we can leave."

"Yes, well ..." Luke smoothed out his brown Jedi robes before shouting out to the bridge. "Thank you for the ride, Mirax!"

"You two are not allowed back on this ship until you kriff each other's brains out!" Mirax shouted back.

Corran grinned. "Am I the luckiest man alive or what?"

Mara didn't bother to dignify that comment with a response, pushing past Corran and Luke and making her way towards the exit. The other two Jedi followed in her wake with Hobbie bringing up the rear. To say that he was woefully unprepared for the sight that greeted him outside of the _Skate_ would have been an understatement. The brass band was fairly jarring. The confetti and the _throngs_ of onlookers was simply disturbing. Everywhere he looked were individuals cheering and clapping, screaming at the top of their lungs in excitement.

_Apparently I didn't fully quantify what Cracken meant by 'revered,'_ Hobbie thought to himself.

Luke seemed to be taking all of this in stride, which Hobbie expected. How many times had Skywalker been paraded around different systems to put on a show for New Republic? Hobbie had been right there with him on a few of those trips. The weeks after the fall of Coruscant had been one public relations blitz after another. Even Corran was relatively used to this. He had taken part of the post Bacta War celebrations. Mara, on the other hand, seemed a touch out of her element. Hobbie didn't need the Force to sense that she was somewhat uncomfortable with all the attention.

He settled into place between Mara and Corran. "I haven't seen a crowd like this since the Rustin Veiver concert I was at last year."

The two Jedi beside him glanced at him simultaneously.

"What?" Hobbie asked. "I have a niece. She's thirteen. It was a lifeday present."

Grumbling to himself, he looked straight ahead. Approaching them were four individuals, dressed in what he assumed was Ploomian (Ploominite? Ploominian?) formal wear. Hobbie had to do his best to suppress a wince, those outfits definitely fit into category three: clothing so terrible it offended both the wearer and the observer. When was the last time bright fuchsia had been considered fashionable? At least, when was the last time it had been considered fashionable by someone not named Wes Janson? Idly, he hoped that he wouldn't be forced to wear something that garish during the upcoming two-week stretch. He'd rather dress up in drag again.

_Let's not say things we can't take back, Klivian._

"My Jedi friends, it is an honor," the eldest member of a group said. He was a middle-aged human male with thinning, grey hair and a smile wider than a Hutt's midsection. "I am Jon Gemar, Ambassador to the New Republic."

"The honor is ours," Luke said diplomatically, extending a hand.

Ambassador Gemar gladly shook it before gesturing to the other three. "If I may introduce you to the rest of our delegation. This is Valara Lissiri—" he pointed towards the rather stern-looking woman standing beside him, "—director of the Ploomian Security Force. Beside her is Murray Dyartes, Director Lissiri's personal aide."

The young man standing next to Lissiri nodded. Hobbie couldn't help but notice that he had been eyeing Mara for the last several minutes.

"So," Corran said, looking towards Director Lissiri. "You're in charge of PloSec?"

Hobbie covered his face with the palm of his hand.

"And finally," Gemar said, nodding towards a petite young woman with a rather distinctive head of frazzled, dirty blonde hair, "this is—"

The girl jumped forward, taking Luke's hand and shaking it vigorously. "Fiolla Flotto, resident Jedi Historian and might I say it is a tremendous honor to meet you Jedi Master Skywalker I have always dreamed of being able to meet you and discuss the intricacies of your Order to compare it to the records we have of the old Order that are stored in our historical archives and might I add that is a very fetching robe that truly suits you well and—"

Gemar carefully peeled the eccentric historian off of Luke's hand.

"A pleasure to meet all of you," Luke said before briefly turning her attention to Fiolla. "Miss Flotto, I would be very interested in perusing your historical records later."

The girl looked like she was about to faint. Mara rolled her eyes.

"And if I may introduce my own staff," Luke continued. "Corran Horn, Jedi Knight and member of the New Republic Navy."

Corran offered a smile, shaking Gemar's hand.

"Derek Klivian, representing the New Republic armed forces diplomatic corps."

"He's not a Jedi?" Gemar asked.

Hobbie shook his head. "No, sir."

"I see." Gemar walked past without bothering to extend a hand. Hobbie did his best not to express the slight annoyance he felt.

"And my companion for this mission, Mara Jade," Luke said.

Gemar's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes! We heard your companion would be here. I have ordered our finest suite be prepared for the two of you."

"Excuse me?" Mara's eyes narrowed.

"Well it is only fitting. A companionship of such notoriety deserves the finest accommodations we can muster. Come!"

As Ambassador Gemar turned to walk away with the rest of the Ploomian delegation, Mara turned to Luke. "Someone care to explain that to me? 'Companionship of such notoriety?'"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Luke said.

"You know," Hobbie said idly, "it seems to me that they think you two are married."

Mara slowly turned to face him. An icy chill ran down his spine.

_"What?"_ she asked through clenched teeth.

* * *

><p>After the New Republic delegation's arrival, the Ploomian delegation escorted them into a small briefing room inside their state building. The formal negotiations would be held in their grandest legislative chamber, but informal talks, such as the initial meeting between delegations, would take place in the smaller rooms. Wedge was waiting there for them and was greeted with very hard sets of blue and green eyes. This was <em>not<em>going to be good; he had spoken to Cracken earlier in the day about the mix-up and knew that Luke and Mara were not going to be happy. Judging from the expressions on their faces, he had underestimated their reactions just a tad.

Luke wheeled on Wedge as soon as the Ploomians left the room. "What is going on, Wedge? Why in all the nine Corellian hells do they think that we're _married_?"

Wedge held out his hands in supplication. He had rarely seen his old friend look so angry, especially not since taking up the life of a Jedi. "Look, it's just a big misunderstanding! In the initial report Luke drafted, he referred to Mara as his 'companion' for the mission, as she is not officially a Jedi and he was unsure how else to refer to her. Someone in Intelligence must not have done all their research." He grimaced, bracing for the blow-up that was sure to happen after he finished his explanation. "I spoke to Cracken about it earlier. There seems to have been a misinterpretation of the initial report we supplied the Ploomians. Apparently, the word 'companion' translates to the same as 'spouse' in their dialect."

Mara affixed Wedge with the iciest of stares. "And why didn't you deem it important to tell the Ploomians that they were mistaken, hmm?"

"Because that would cause their opinions of both the New Republic and the Jedi to lower considerably. Then the Ploomians would begin to question every other piece of information that NRI provided during the pre-negotiations, which would substantially hamper the diplomatic process and possibly lead them joining the Imperial Remnant."

Wedge, Luke, Mara, and Corran turned to the new speaker with slack jaws and open mouths. Hobbie looked up from his datapad with an insulted expression on his face. "What? You think I don't understand politics? I _was _asked to go to Adumar, after all," he pouted.

Wedge blinked and shook his head. "Um, yes," he cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, Hobbie is correct. We can't risk letting them know that we made a mistake on something so trivial."

Mara's hand began to creep towards her lightsaber. "_We_ didn't kriff up, Wedge, _Cracken_ did, and I'm going to kill him for it," she growled.

Again, Wedge held out his hands. Although he wouldn't mind Mara slicing Cracken in half with her lightsaber, they had more important things to worry about now. "Look, I know this isn't the most ideal situation for the two of you to be in, but you're both Jedi—"

"Well, technically, Mara has never actually finished her training—"

A look that could melt durasteel cut Luke off in mid sentence. He gulped. Corran burst out laughing until Mara turned her glare on him. He gulped, too.

Wedge suppressed a grin. "As I was saying, you and Luke are both, um, skilled in the Force, and you've teamed up in much worse situations before, so it can't be that bad, right? Just go along with the negotiations, work your Jedi magic, be treated to fancy dinners and lush accommodations, and then come back heroes of the New Republic...again."

Luke and Mara shared a glance. Wedge wondered if they were conversing using the Force, or if they just knew each other well enough to be able to read each other's expressions. He filed that thought away for future reference.

_"Fine,"_ Mara sighed after a few moments. "But these accommodations better be very lush, with _two_ beds, and I wouldn't mind a couple of massages thrown in, as well as a liquor cabinet stuffed full of Whyren's. And make sure the food is good and plentiful for Skywalker here. We all know he can eat like a bantha."

Wedge chuckled. "Now see? It won't be that bad. And Corran and Hobbie will be with you, so that should count for something...I guess." The two Rogues shared an offended glance. "Anyway, the rest of the Rogues and I will be stationed at the safe house, listening in on the negotiations. Oh, and I'll be sure to inform General Cracken of Intelligence's mix-up," Wedge continued. He was very much looking forward to that. As he got to the door, he turned around to say his final farewell. "Now you've got all our information on your datapads. Mr. Dyartes will be back in a moment to escort you to your quarters, which I'm told are very lovely. And don't worry—the two weeks will be over before you know it!"

The door shut quickly behind him, but he could still hear the shriek of protest as he entered the turbolift down the hallway:

_"TWO WEEKS?"_

* * *

><p>Corran flinched as Luke and Mara's outburst hit him through the Force. He looked at Hobbie, who was holding his head in pain. Apparently, one needn't be Force-sensitive to experience the pain inspired by Jade-Skywalker arguments.<p>

"Two weeks?" Mara repeated slowly. "Nobody told me this was going to last two weeks."

"Me, neither," Luke growled.

"Um, yes they did," Corran said. "It was in the preliminary information, remember?"

Luke glanced at Mara. "Did you read through that?"

"Yes, of course I did. Did you?"

"Of course. I didn't see anything about a time frame."

"Neither did I," she responded. The two of them turned back to Corran.

"What?" he exclaimed, feigning innocence. "_I _didn't write the report; it came from NRI."

Luke and Mara shared another glance. "Oh. NRI. What a shock," she said sarcastically.

"That information was _not_in our reports, Corran," Luke said.

"It was in the report I read through," Hobbie spoke up.

Mara took out her datapad and scanned through a few pages. "Oh, how interesting," she remarked.

"What?" Luke replied, taking out his own datapad.

"The time frame _is_ in _this _report. I wonder if this was changed after we agreed to come…"

"Yes, I wonder," Luke agreed. The two of them glared at Corran again.

"Hey, don't blame me!" he yelled.

"Oh, I _will_ blame you; you roped me into this!" Mara accused.

"And Wedge isn't here for me to blame," Luke pointed out.

"Well then blame Hobbie!" Corran said.

"Hey!" Hobbie interjected. "Leave me out of this!"

"Look, like Wedge said, it won't be so bad," Corran said, stepping in between Luke and Mara and placing his arms around their shoulders. "Why don't you two just think of this marriage thing as practice?" he grinned.

"Horn?" Mara whispered.

"Yes?"

"If you don't remove your arm right now, you're going to join Skywalker and Klivian in the cybernetic limb club."

Corran quickly removed his arm, stepping out of Mara's reach. At that moment, there was a tentative knock on the door and Murray stepped in. "Um, hello!" he said eagerly, stepping forward to Mara. "If you are ready, I will escort you to your quarters?"

"Gladly!" Mara sighed, leaving the room in the huff. "I hope the liquor cabinet is fully stocked!" she called over her shoulder.

Murray put his arm out to Luke as they left the room. "Sir, will your lady require adult beverages?" he asked with a concerned look on his face.

Luke shook his head. "We all will, Mr. Dyartes. We _all_ will."

The ragtag group of diplomats was escorted out of the state building to a very lush speeder, where they made their way to what they were told was Plooma's most luxurious hotel. Corran couldn't help but be impressed with Plooma's architecture and natural beauty, and even its residents seemed extremely friendly. However, his good mood didn't seem to be rubbing off on Luke or Mara.

"I can't believe we have to pretend to be a couple," Mara whispered low enough so Murray couldn't hear them.

"This is asinine, Corran," Luke agreed.

"At least you don't have to say 'I am telbun,'" Corran pointed out. He still had horrible memories of _that_ mission. Besides, Luke was fooling himself if he thought that pretending to be married to Mara Jade didn't have its perks. Corran may be a married man, but he certainly didn't mind having to look at Mara for two weeks.

Not that he'd ever admit such a thing to his wife, of course.

When the group arrived at their quarters, they found that they were divided into two rooms—Luke and Mara in one, Corran and Hobbie in the other. Corran wondered why they put him in a room with Hobbie, but didn't think much of it; the Rogues usually always ended up sharing rooms when on missions, and it was a way to save funds, after all, having two rooms instead of three.

"Here you are, Mr. and Mrs. Skywalker," Murray said, opening the door to Luke and Mara's extremely spacious quarters. Corran stuck his head in, whistling softly at the accommodations. "Two bedrooms, as you requested, along with a living space, office, and large balcony. You will also find a stocked kitchenette and bar, and there is a computer terminal that should be adequate for all your needs. We do not have residential HoloNet access here on Plooma, but your commander should have access at their safehouse, if you have any need for outside contact. Is there anything else that you will require?" he asked Mara.

"No, the room is lovely, thank you," she replied, obviously trying hard not to take out her frustrations on Murray. "Oh, by the way," she added before he could leave, "it's just Jade, not Skywalker. And you can refer to me as Captain, please. And he's Master Skywalker," she added, pointing at Luke.

"You did not take your husband's name?" Murray asked, sounding confused.

"Um, no, it's kind of a tradition on my home planet, to keep maiden names when you get married," she lied.

"Oh. Well certainly, Captain Jade. Whatever you wish to be called, I will oblige. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance. You may contact me on my comm frequency at any hour with any request. I will return tomorrow at 0800 to take you to the negotiations." Murray bowed and left the room, gesturing to Hobbie and Corran to follow him to their quarters.

As he was leaving, Corran heard Luke whisper to Mara, "Wow, I didn't know that Palpatine was such a stickler for matriarchal traditions."

"Shut _up_, Skywalker!"

The other room was just as spacious as Luke and Mara's. After getting settled in (during which time Corran thought on the fact that Murray had not been as eager to help the men as he had been for Mara), he headed to the living quarters, where Hobbie was busy reading his datapad.

"Come on Hobbs, let's go downstairs. I saw a great-looking cantina on our way into the hotel."

"It's 2100 already, Corran," Hobbie groaned. "I don't want to be dead tired during these negotiations. I'm going to want to fall asleep every five minutes as it is."

"Aww, come on," Corran whined. "I don't want to go to bed already, and I'm bored."

"No way, I'm staying out of trouble on this mission, thank you. Why don't you go ask Mara? Isn't that why you wanted her to come along?"

"Well, yeah, but I thought I'd give them some time alone, you know?" he said, winking and nudging at Hobbie.

Hobbie rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I'm sure they're really getting close over there, if she hasn't already killed him yet."

"Fine," Corran sighed. "You leave me no choice! But let it be on your head that true love was not able to prevail this evening because I stole Mara off to go drinking," he said melodramatically.

"Whatever you say, Corran."

Corran grabbed his jacket and walked to the adjoining room. He pressed his ear to the door before knocking, but couldn't hear anything.

Mara answered the door, her trademark scowl still plastered across her face. "What do you want, Horn?"

"Come drinking with me, pleeeease," he begged.

"Oh yeah, that sounds like a _great _idea," she said sarcastically.

"Come on!" Corran said. "I know you want to get out of here."

"Actually, no, I want to go to sleep while Skywalker is still preoccupied."

"What's he doing?" Corran asked.

"How the hell should I know? He disappeared into his room awhile ago and I've been glad to leave him to whatever weird Jedi thing he's probably doing."

"Please please please!" Corran grabbed her arm and pulled. "Don't make me drink by myself. Mirax will yell at me."

"Mirax will yell at you regardless."

"Point. But come on, you know you need the liquor!"

"I told you no, Horn!— "

At that moment, Luke entered the living quarters, wearing nothing but his shorts. "What's going on, guys?"

"AH!" Corran and Mara shrieked at the same time. Corran quickly turned and averted his eyes, but Mara just stared slack-jawed at Luke. Finally, she found her voice. "What the hell are you doing, Skywalker?" she sputtered.

"What do you mean?"

_"Why are you in your underwear?"_

"Oh," he said, looking down at himself, completely nonplussed. "This is what I wear around my apartment."

"In mixed company?"

"Well, when I've been lucky enough to have women staying overnight in my apartment, they haven't seemed to mind me being in my underwear."

Corran couldn't help himself; he fell on the floor laughing at Luke's retort. Mara kicked him.

"Anyway," Luke continued, ignoring Mara's glare, "I was going to meditate some before I went to bed. It's a routine I have. I thought you might like to join me!"

Mara glanced at Corran, who was pushing himself back up to his feet, then back at Luke, who was settling into a cross-legged position on the floor. She quickly grabbed her jacket and pulled Corran out the door. "Sorry Skywalker, I've got other plans already! But you have fun meditating! Don't wait up for me!" As the door closed behind them, she hissed at Corran, "You're buying!"

Come to find out, there was no need for Corran to buy any drinks once the Ploomians saw the lightsabers hanging from their belts. The cantina's patrons were more than happy to spring for the Jedi's tab. As he finished his third drink, Corran was very glad that he had kept up the life of a Jedi while serving in Rogue Squadron.

"Wow, this is such a nice place!" Corran slurred as he waved to some adoring female patrons.

"Oh yeah, it's just fantastic," Mara muttered, still nursing her first drink.

"Aww, don't be such a spoilsport, Mara! Isn't it nice to be worshipped?"

She rolled her eyes. "You worship yourself every day, and besides, I don't _want _to be worshipped for being something I'm not. I don't want to be worshipped at all, as a matter of fact."

"I bet you wouldn't mind if Luke worshipped you," Corran muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing!" Corran motioned to the bartender for another drink, cutting off any further outbursts. He sat another drink down in front of her. "So Mara…Luke's in pretty good shape, wouldn't you say?"

"Ugh, that's just gross."

"Oh come on, you have to admit that he's a handsome man!"

"If you're so sure of that, then why don't _you_ date him?"

Corran looked thoughtful for a moment, then realized what Mara saying. "Ew, gross!"

"My thoughts exactly."

He shoved Mara's arm. "Oh, please—you dated _Calrissian_, for Force sake, and you're trying to say with a straight face that you don't find Luke even halfway attractive?"

"Don't remind me of that," Mara groaned.

"What's the matter, relationship ended badly?"

Mara averted her eyes. "Not exactly."

Corran stared at her for a moment. Maybe it was the liquor in him, but he could tell that there was something more to the story than she was telling.

"Stay out of my mind, Horn," she warned, but it was too late.

"HA! You didn't date Calrissian at all! It was just a ruse!"

"Shut up!" she hissed. "I don't want people knowing that, okay?"

"And why not?" Corran asked knowingly.

"Because, we were doing some research for Karrde and he would like that fact to remain secret for now, okay?"

"Are you sure that's not the _only _reason?"

"What other reason would there be?"

"Oh, I don't know…maybe you want Luke to keep thinking that you were romantically involved with Calrissian?"

"And why would I want that?"

Corran sat back in his chair. Oh, he had her there. "Because—in the time that you two have known each other, you've each had one major long-term relationship—Callista and Lando." Mara made a face at the mention of Callista, but Corran continued, deciding to come back to that fact later. "That puts you on even footing. But, if you admit that your relationship with Lando was just business, then Luke one-ups you in that department. And you _do not _want him to know that."

Mara sputtered at his theory. "Why would I even _care_ what Skywalker thinks of my romantic history?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "I don't know, maybe because you secretly loooooove him?"

"That's it, I'm leaving," Mara said, taking her glass and downing it in one gulp.

"No, don't leave! This is fun!" Corran said, grabbing her arm.

"Good-bye, Horn! I'm not in the mood to sit around and hear you drunkenly analyze my life."

"You're just mad because I'm right!" he called after her.

She turned around, and this time, she was able to finish her retort—"Oh, go kriff yourself!"

_"Lightsaber incident!"_


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The crowd had been deafening as the New Republic delegation traveled to the state house. As promised, Murray Dyartes had arrived bright and early to escort the delegation. At their first glimpse of Luke Skywalker and Corran Horn, both wearing the traditional attire of Jedi Knights, the onlookers outside their hotel had burst into applause. Men had reached out to shake their hands while women fawned to themselves; some even went so far as to faint. Once again, Luke had seemed to take the attention in stride, although he was starting to look a tad uncomfortable with the almost-worship of the Ploomians. Corran also looked at ease, waving adoringly to the crowd and projecting the image of a powerful CorSec officer turned snubfighter pilot turned Jedi Knight.

Mara Jade remained arm in arm with Luke Skywalker, her pretend husband, through the entire trip, a neutral expression on her face. She even went so far as to wave to the crowd a few times, and her body language indicated that she was comfortable in her role as the wife of a Jedi Master. Hobbie, however, knew better. Mara had spent the early years of her life learning espionage techniques that she later used as the Emperor's Hand. She was easily capable of slipping into any role, even that of 'companion' to her former enemy.

The Ploomians might not know how much this mission bothered Mara Jade, but it was obvious to Hobbie that she was _not_ happy, and he didn't even need to Force to sense it.

He'd often wondered about the nature of the relationship between his former Commanding Officer and the former Emperor's Hand. Everyone in the New Republic knew the story of how they first met, and how Mara had threatened to kill Luke whenever the opportunity presented itself. Instead they had become friends—even best friends, one might say. Their friendship survived Luke's dark times on Byss, Mara prematurely leaving Luke's Jedi Academy, and their respective relationships with Lando Calrissian and Callista Ming.

But watching them now, Hobbie sensed that something in their relationship had changed. Mara had not been the least bit excited to see Luke upon learning that he would also be going to Plooma; in fact, she seemed downright upset about it. On the _Pulsar Skate_, when Hobbie questioned why Mara was acting more hostile than usual, Corran had explained that Mara was sick of being pressured to return to Yavin IV, but that just didn't make sense to Hobbie. Luke had been encouraging Mara to become a Jedi for years, and despite that fact, they always appeared to have a solid friendship. That was no longer the case. Somehow, something was very different between them. Judging by Luke's overly polite overtures since they learned that they would have to play a couple, he had sensed this as well, and was trying his best to mend fences with his old friend.

Either that, or Luke was just as good an actor as Mara.

The first official meeting between the Ploomian and New Republic delegations was held in the state house's largest convocation chamber. The eight delegates sat on high-backed chairs situated on a raised dais, with a long, counter-style desk in front of them. Several of Plooma's highest-ranking government officials sat below them, while local representatives, military officers, and civilian onlookers filled the stadium-style seating that made up the rest of the imposing room. Hobbie estimated that there were easily over a thousand spectators present to see what the New Republic had to offer. He wasn't nervous, however; all he had to do was sit in his chair and follow the proceedings without falling asleep. Everything that took place today was just for show. Tomorrow the real negotiations would begin, with only the two delegations and some other planetary officials present.

But today was all about giving the Ploomians what they wanted, and what they wanted was to see the Jedi from the New Republic. Even wearing his usually attention-grabbing dress uniform, Hobbie had been overlooked all morning in favor of the Jedi robes worn by Luke and Corran. Even Mara, in her plain black pantsuit, had earned admirers due to the lightsaber she wore on her belt. Watching the audience fawn over his fellow delegates, Hobbie tried his best not to sink down in his seat and feel too sorry for himself. After all, if the Ploomians ignored him, there was a good chance that he could escape this mission without being shot at.

The convocation chamber grew hushed as Ambassador Gemar stepped up to the podium and raised his hands. With a booming voice, he began his prepared speech. "My fellow Ploomians, it is an honor to welcome you to the official opening of negotiations between Plooma and the New Republic. This is a landmark occasion for our fair people, a day when a long-forgotten friendship can once again flourish. As you all know, our predecessors decided that it was in our planet's best interest to retreat from galactic politics during the dark times of the Clone Wars and the later reorganization from Galactic Republic to Galactic Empire. Due to the remote location of our planet, we were successful in avoiding the attention of the Emperor and left to our own devices. Now, with a Republic once again in control of the galaxy, Plooma is proud to take its first steps back into the galaxy at large…"

Hobbie began to zone out as Gemar droned on for several more minutes. In sharp comparison, the crowd seemed to be sitting in rapt attention, following every word in earnest. Hobbie glanced around the room, observing his fellow diplomats. Mara sat to his left, making casual notes on her datapad, trying her best to type while Luke, still playing the role of devoted husband, held her hand hostage. Sitting on the other side of him, Corran had been tasked with observing the proceedings, using his investigative training to his advantage.

On the other side of the podium, Valara Lissiri stared up at Gemar, her severe expression a stark contrast to the rest of the Ploomians. Murray Dyartes was once again candidly eying Mara, while Fiolla Flotta alternated between furiously working on her datapad and staring adoringly at Luke. The frazzled young woman looked both ready to jump out of her skin and scared out of her mind to be in the presence of two (and a half) Jedi.

As the crowd burst into applause, indicating the end of the speech, Hobbie turned his attention back to the proceedings. Luke stood up and shook Gemar's hand, and the two men posed for the holocams. After a few moments, Gemar sat down and Luke took the podium, gripping its sides in a powerful, commanding pose.

Leaning over slightly, Mara murmured, "Ten creds that Leia wrote his speech for him."

"You're on." They shook hands, and Hobbie smirked. "You're gonna owe me ten creds, Mara."

"Whatever you say, Klivian."

Hobbie counted along as Luke made his speech.

_Step one: Remind them who everyone is in case they've forgotten._ "Citizens of Plooma, I am Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, and it is a great honor to be here on your glorious planet in hopes that you will once again find a home amongst the New Republic." The crowd burst into applause after only one sentence. Hobbie was very grateful that this would be a short speech.

_Step two: Remind them what you're here for._ "While Plooma once found it necessary to step back from galactic politics, I hope that you will find it in your world's best interest to join the New Republic, where we can form a mutually beneficial relationship that will stand the test of time." Once again the crowd cheered. Everyone seemed enraptured by the Jedi Master's words. Even Lissiri clapped politely, although her demeanor remained extremely cold—almost like an older, less humorous Mara Jade.

_Step three: Something personal, so they'll know you're paying attention._ "I must admit, it is overwhelming to bear witness to the esteem in which your people hold the Jedi Order. As one of the first in a new generation of Jedi Knights, I am honored that you would consider our opinions to be equal to that of your most decorated statesmen. I truly hope that all members of the New Republic can learn from your respect for the Jedi Order." Again there were more cheers, and Fiolla seemed to be physically restraining herself from leaping out of her chair in applause. Beside Hobbie, Mara tensed, obviously the only person in attendance who was not pleased with Luke's comments about the Jedi Order.

_Step four: Wrap it up before you make a fool of yourself._ "Over the next two weeks, I—along with my esteemed colleagues Mara Jade, Jedi Knight Corran Horn, and Major Derek Klivian—will strive to come to mutually agreeable terms to bring your fair planet into the New Republic. May this be the start of a long-lasting and fruitful partnership." With that, Luke stepped back from the podium, waving gracefully as the journalists snapped more holos and crowed roared and chanted. Mara even stood up to take a few holos with him (and surprisingly, didn't destroy any of the cameras using the Force while doing so). Finally Luke took his seat and Ambassador Gemar resumed his place at the podium.

As Gemar began to speak again, Mara gave Hobbie a confused look. "That's _it?_" she whispered. "That's all he's going to say? I would expect that a Leia Organa speech would be more...lengthy."

Hobbie grinned. "I told you; Leia didn't write his speech. Now fork over my ten credits."

"And just how do you know Leia didn't write it?"

"I would recognize an Antilles Four-Step Instant Speech anywhere. You forget that Wedge was once Luke's XO."

Mara rolled her eyes, but handed over the credits anyway. "Rogues," she huffed.

Hobbie paid her no attention; he was too busy thinking about what we would purchase with his ten credits to make this mission to Plooma worthwhile. But as Gemar continued to drone on, and then other Ploomians stood up to make long, pretentious speeches, Hobbie stared woefully at the credchip in his hand, coming to the stark realization that _nothing _could make this trip worthwhile.

The rest of the introductory meeting (or was it a pep rally?) proceeded without event, a small miracle that Hobbie was thankful for. One day into diplomatic affairs and he had yet to be shot at, challenged to a life-or-death duel, gotten into a dogfight, or been forced to wear a dress. As far as he was concerned, that was a minor victory on his part. As an even bigger bonus, he wasn't in a bacta tank yet. Already this was going better than his last assignment on NRI's behalf. Perhaps too well.

Definitely too well.

Hobbie began to run down a checklist. Mara hadn't killed him yet, and she had even gone as far to refrain from killing Corran and Luke. Breakfast had been somewhat palatable, Wes hadn't yet called to rib him over being stuck with the Jedi, and an Imperial Star Destroyer had yet to park overhead to ruin his day. Oh yes, things were proceeding far too smoothly. It was only a matter of time before the Galaxy decided to even the karmic score with Hobbie. It was inevitable. Rivers carve out canyons, winds shape the mountains, the Galaxy exists only to make his life miserable.

The Galaxy started getting back at him during the trip back to the hotel. The four of them had decided to walk by themselves to get away from all the attention. Without the watchful eyes of thousands of Ploomian citizens, Mara and Luke apparently decided that it was time for a temporary reprieve from their show of "companionship." Well, at least Mara was, anyways.

"Did you really have to hold my hand the entire time we were sitting back there and listening to Gemar drone on?" she demanded.

Luke offered a half-smile and a noncommittal shrug, linking an arm with hers. "All part of the act, love."

"We're not in front of anyone right now! Drop it, will you?" She snatched her arm back.

"You know," Corran chimed in, "part of a successful cover means that you have to stick with the facade, even if you think no one is looking."

A pair of cold, green eyes locked onto Corran. "So help me, if you offer any more advice I'm going to have to write an apology letter to Mirax and explain how her husband suffered a very tragic and very lethal accident."

"It's not an accident if you deliberately plan it, Mara."

"The courts would never convict me."

At least it was only a few more minutes back to the hotel and sweet, merciful freedom from Luke and Mara. Hobbie could lock himself away, order room service for the rest of the day, and hide away from whatever the Galaxy was planning for him. Maybe he'd even go to bed early. Sleep was a wonderful thing, a precious treat he so rarely enjoyed.

He caught it out of the corner of his eyes—a rather unassuming reflection of light from a nearby rooftop. At first he paid little attention to it, but the glint flashed in his eye once more. It kept coming at an irregular intervals. Finally, he turned to look at it and immediately felt his stomach drop. Without thinking, he threw himself at the three Jedi, knocking them to the ground just as a red blaster bolt soared past the spot where they had just been standing.

"Sithspit!" Corran said, reaching into his pocket for his comlink and thumbing it on. "Delegation under fire, repeat delegation under fire! Rooftop sniper!"

Hobbie scampered behind a nearby bench, reaching to his side and pulling out his holstered hand blaster. Peering over it, he raised the sidearm and snapped off two quick shots in the direction of the sniper. In the distance, he could see the unknown assailant backing away from the rooftop ledge momentarily. He continued laying down suppression fire in an attempt to keep the sniper from leveling another shot at them.

"Keep him pinned there, Hobbie!" Luke said.

Before he could respond, Luke, Corran, and Mara were gone, racing towards the building and forcing their way inside.

"Hey!" Hobbie shouted. "Wait!"

Grumbling to himself, he watched the Jedi rush into action. Hobbie knelt behind the bench and squared the sights of his blaster on the ledge. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger once more, he felt a wave of superheated air momentarily singe his neck. On instinct, he dropped to his stomach to hide his profile. Scanning over the area, he saw the glint of a second sniper scope several buildings down. He was in serious trouble, pinned down without any backup.

"The Galaxy seems to be trying to even the score in a hurry," Hobbie muttered to himself.

Placing a hand on the ground and rising to a crouch, Hobbie waited until he saw the second sniper briefly back away from the ledge to adjust their rifle. At that moment, he burst forward, breaking into a full-on sprint. A pair of blasts landed on the ground in front of him, narrowly missing his outstretched legs. After what felt like an eternity in hell or _Lusankya_, he burst into the building and made his way towards the emergency staircase. Six painful flights later, Hobbie stopped at the rooftop door.

He took a calming breath to regulate his heartbeat and brought his blaster next to his ear, pressing his back against the wall next to the door. Unceremoniously, he spun and kicked the door open, taking a step onto the rooftop.

Before he could so much as flinch, Hobbie felt something very hard slam into his side. As he fell to the ground, he saw his blaster skitter across the roof. He quickly crawled towards it but was stopped in his tracks as a heavy weight fell on his back. Wincing as the wind was knocked out of his lungs, he vaguely noticed a hand and an arm trying to wrap around his neck. Hobbie was a touch quicker, shoving his elbow into the assailant's ribs. The distraction was enough to allow him to get back to his feet and reach for his blaster.

Just as Hobbie was about to pick it up, his feet were knocked out from under him. Somehow, he managed to secure the weapon in his off-hand, but the instant he tried to turn and level a shot, the stranger took a hold of the blaster in an attempt to wrest it free once more.

The blaster going off caught Hobbie by surprise.

* * *

><p>Corran shook his head and looked at the very dead sniper. It really was a shame he had put up so much of a fight; the ideal outcome would have been to capture him alive to try and drag out some answers. Still, there were clues that could be gleaned just by looking at him. The man was clad in civilian clothes, but not a fashion that was typical of what he had seen on Plooma. It was modern daywear, similar to what would be seen on any well connected system. Corran made a note that their attacker likely was from off-world. Remnant perhaps?<p>

The second clue was the sniper rifle itself, Tenloss DXR-6. That was definitely a weapon that the average Plooma citizen couldn't get their hands on due to the price. Of course, the illegality of the rifle also made securing one all the more challenging. Corran was convinced that, whoever this dead shooter was, he definitely had not been Ploomian.

"Hell of a first day," Mara said bitterly, attaching her lightsaber back onto her belt.

"It could have been worse," Luke noted. "If Hobbie hadn't done something one of us could be dead."

"And whose fault is it that we didn't notice? You just had to get into another argument, didn't you farmboy? Maybe if you spent more time watching where you were going and less time trying to get under my skin you would have noticed we were in trouble."

"This is my fault?" Luke asked incredulously. "I'm not the one who came out here looking to take someone's head off!"

"Well maybe if you would just stop—"

Mara was interrupted by the sound of a lone blaster shot ringing out in the distance. Several buildings down, Corran caught sight of a muzzle flash. A pit formed in his stomach.

"Hobbie!" Corran said, hastily thumbing on his comlink. "What's going on?"

There was no response.

The three Jedi exchanged momentary glances before sprinting towards the edge of the roof. Corran pushed himself off the ledge, propelling himself with the Force across to the next building. Twice more he repeated the process before coming to a stop on the building where he had seen the blaster shot. Laying on the ground were two human male figures. The first Corran couldn't identify, but the second was unmistakably Hobbie Klivian.

"Are you—" Corran started.

"Sure!" Hobbie suddenly sat up, startling Corran slightly. "Leave the guy without a lightsaber to stay on the ground! After all, it apparently takes three Jedi to take care of a single rooftop sniper. Nope. Have to leave Hobbie behind, no other choice. I mean, what are the odds that he could get pinned down without backup? Perish the thought!"

Corran coughed into his hand. "I, uh, think I see a speeder here to pick us up. Maybe we should go?"

"I've got a better idea," Hobbie said, standing and brushing himself off. "Why don't the three of you go to safety? I'll just stay here and paint a target on my chest. Maybe I'll also scream 'I'm right here, someone shoot me!' for a few hours. Would that suit you all?"

Luke rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry Hobbie."

* * *

><p>Wedge knew exactly what he was going to find beyond the doors to the makeshift conference room. There would be one somewhat calm Jedi Master, one indignant Corellian Jedi, one furious red-headed woman, and one bitter pilot. Steeling himself, he forced a smile and pushed the doors open, stepping inside to greet his disgruntled diplomats.<p>

"Well, I have to hand it to you," Wedge said. "Any other diplomatic delegation would probably have smoking craters in their chests now."

Mara shot out of her seat. "Okay flyboy, we need to talk."

"Mara..." Luke gently touched her arm. She batted his hand away.

"Have you even _looked_ at any of this information Cracken gave us?" she demanded, holding up a datapad and waving it about in a rage. "No mention of any sort of Imperial agents on-world. No mention of any mercenaries on-world. No mentions of _anyone_ who might be trying to take shots at us with disruptor rifles!"

"No mentions of the whole 'companionship' thing," Hobbie added, earning a sharp glare from both Mara and Luke.

Wedge held his hands up defensively. "I admit, our intel wasn't quite up to par this time, but we're doing what we can. I've been talking with NRI and I've got my pilots running surveillance sweeps as we speak."

"Not good enough," Mara said. "I'm not going back out there to get shot at again."

"Or to find out that something like 'partner' means doing the Horizontal Ewok Mambo here on Plooma," Corran said. Another sharp glare.

Frowning, Wedge said, "There's not much I can do right now. We don't have any reports of immediate danger right now, so NRI would like you to maintain your schedule. I'll double-up the eyes and ears we've got watching you moving forward."

"I'm finished listening to Cracken and NRI," Mara spat. "If we're going to continue here, we're going to do it my way."

"And what, exactly, is your way?"

"To start, I'm bringing in someone I _can _trust," she folded her arms under her chest. "Talon Karrde is nearby. I'd take his information over Cracken's any day."

Wedge groaned inwardly. How was he going to explain this one to NRI? _Sorry, but the diplomatic delegation nearly got killed so we're outsourcing all of our intelligence work to a third-party information broker at a hefty price. _Cracken was going to blow a sealant gasket when he heard about this new wrinkle in the mission. Unfortunately, Wedge knew Mara was right. NRI had left them woefully unprepared for this assignment. Now that it was getting dangerous, Wedge had to make the hard choice. He needed to do what was best for his men and for the New Republic.

That meant he would have to concede to Mara's request and bring in Karrde.

"Okay, we'll do this your way," Wedge said. "I want to speak with him as soon as possible so get on that."

Without another word, Mara walked past him and out of the conference room. The others stood to follow suit. "Don't worry," Mara called over her shoulder. "I'm sure he'll discount his usual rate in exchange for right of first refusal on all of Plooma's intel contracts."

Wedge sighed after her. "Enjoying married life, Luke?" he asked.

"Does Iella ever get this mad at you?" Luke inquired, pushing in his chair and adjusting his robes.

"Only when he brings up Qwi," Hobbie offered as he strode towards the door.

* * *

><p>Thankfully, Talon Karrde was more than agreeable to offer his services, especially after considering all the possibilities for information brokering on the disconnected planet (<em>and<em> after Luke had coughed "_Chimaera!_ Detention block!" several times), and would be able to arrive on-planet in thirty-six hours.

After safely returing to the hotel and eating dinner, Corran left the room he shared with Hobbie and sauntered down the hallway towards the happy couple's door.

He had a plan.

The door opened before he could knock, and for a moment he just stood there with his fist in the air. Mara was leaning against the doorway, her eyebrows raised in a question that he knew read _What the hell do you want?_

"Hey, Mara. Is your husband around?" Corran asked casually.

She reached out and slapped him upside the head. Corran chuckled to himself. It was worth the pain to see Mara so annoyed.

"He's in his bedroom," she replied anyway.

"Can you get him for me please?"

"Hell no, I'm not going in there," Mara scoffed, but she stepped aside to allow Corran entrance. "If you want him, you go get him."

Corran grinned wickedly. "I should be saying the same thing to you," he said under his breath as he crossed the large living room to Luke's bedroom. The door was ajar, so he stuck his head inside. Luke was sitting at the desk, reading something on his datapad. "Hey, Luke," he called. "Are you busy?"

Luke turned around and smiled. "Just reading some reports from the Academy."

"Anything interesting?" Corran asked.

From across the living room, Mara snorted.

"Oh, you know, same old stuff. Tionne has been working on some classes for younger students. She's hoping to get some new apprentices soon."

"Don't worry, Valin can't stop talking about learning to use a lightsaber of his own," Corran said. He grew wistful as he thought of his young children, Valin and Jysella, waiting at home for him, but pushed the thought aside. As a member of Rogue Squadron and a Jedi Knight, they were used to him being away, and he knew that, once the war with the Empire was over, he would be able to leave Starfighter Command and teach his children at Luke's praxeum.

But for now, he had other, more devious things to attend to. "And speaking of lightsabers, what do you say we get a little practice in? I haven't been able to train much lately, and figured a round with Master Skywalker could always do me a world of good."

Again Corran heard a loud snort and Mara appeared in the doorway next to him. "Don't listen to him, Skywalker. It's a trap, I'm telling you."

"Hush, Mara," Corran said, pushing her out of the way.

Luke was already getting up from his chair and picking up his lightsaber. "That sounds great, Corran. I could use a little practice myself."

"Great! There's some workout rooms downstairs off the lobby. I doubt the Ploomians would mind us using one."

"Are you kidding?" Mara chimed in as she settled onto the sofa. "Knowing them, you'd probably be able to charge admission."

Corran looked thoughtful for a moment. "That's not a bad idea..." He looked up and saw Luke staring at him in disbelief. "I mean...uh...that would be morally repugnant and against every code of the Jedi Order." He nodded.

"And you all wonder why I'm not a Jedi yet," Mara muttered under her breath.

Corran winced, anticipating another blow-up between Mara and Luke about her Jedi training, but Luke just turned his head slightly, a small grin on his face. Mara noticed him staring at her. "What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Luke said quickly. "You want to join us?"

She glanced between the two Jedi. "As much fun as it would be to see Corran get beat up, I've got some reports to read. You know, since I was dragged away from my business for two weeks by a certain flyboy."

Luke shrugged, not surprised. "Suit yourself. Let's go, Corran."

As they left the room, Mara called out again, "It's a trap!"

When they got in the turbolift, Corran leaned back and crossed his arms. "What was that all about?"

"What?" Luke asked.

"That look you gave her."

"Oh, that," Luke replied, looking awkward. "It was nothing."

"Don't give me that. I was in CorSec, remember?"

"Of course, how could I forget," Luke said sarcastically. "Fine; did you catch what she said?"

"That she's not a Jedi?"

"That she's not a Jedi _yet_."

"Ahhh," Corran said knowingly. "So you're still doing your best to recruit her, huh?"

"I try."

"Well, between you and me, you'd be better off trying to get her into bed than to formally attend your Jedi Academy."

Luke sputtered, but before he could say anything the turbolift stopped and they exited, heading past a throng of adoring Ploomians just waiting to catch a glimpse of the Jedi. Corran waved at some of the women while they walked across the lobby. They entered the first empty workout room they found and Luke immediately wheeled on Corran.

"_What _did you say?"

"You heard me."

"Why in blazes would I want to do _that_?"

"You've been trying to get her to be a Jedi for ages."

"No, not that! Get her into bed!"

Corran gave Luke an incredulous look. "Really? You're trying to pretend you're not attracted to her?"

"No!" Luke cried, indignant.

"Not at all? Not even the tiniest bit?"

"This is _Mara_ you're talking about! You know, woman who wanted to kill me?"

"You mean, woman who _didn't_ kill you, but instead ended up saving your life on numerous occasions and who you keep bugging to become a Jedi? Woman who came to make sure you were alright during the whole Exar Kun incident? Woman who tried her best to pretend she didn't want to kill Callista Ming every time someone mentioned her name? Yes, I'm well aware of who we're talking about."

Luke just gaped at Corran for several moments, before shaking his head and taking his lightsaber from his belt. "This is ridiculous. I'm not talking about this with you." He ignited his saber.

"Whatever you say, Master," Corran said, igniting his own lightsaber. As they began to spar, he laughed to himself. _Oh, he protests way too much._ Just then, Luke disarmed him with a swift elbow to the face.

"I heard that."

Corran suppressed a grin. After several more rounds, Luke stepped back and extinguished his lightsaber. "What do you mean, 'tried her best to pretend she didn't want to kill Callista every time someone mentioned her name?'"

"I thought you weren't interested in discussing such things with me?" Corran smirked.

"...I'm not. I'm just curious."

"Right," Corran deadpanned.

"So...did she really?"

"Sorry, Master Skywalker, but I'm afraid you'll have to discuss that with your wife."

"Yeah, and after I do that, please be sure to send my remains to Leia."

"I thought it was customary for the wife to take possession of her husband's remains?"

"Horn, you better ignite your lightsaber before I slice your head off."

Corran grinned.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

It was just breaking dawn on Plooma when Talon Karrde's shuttle sat down in Plooma's busiest spaceport. Despite the early hour and the fact that she had a busy day ahead of her, the ever reliable Mara Jade was waiting for him, and Karrde couldn't hide his smile as he thought of the trouble she had gotten herself into this time. After saying good-bye to Faughn and gathering up his belongings, Karrde set off down the ramp.

His former employee was leaning against an enclosed speeder on the far side of the landing platform. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was exhibiting an aura that seemed to say "do not approach me upon fear of your life," but her expression visibly brightened as Karrde approached. They greeted each other with a quick embrace and the normal pleasantries; then, pulling back from her slightly and examining her left ring finger, Karrde's mouth began to curl into a smirk. Mara shook her head and put out her finger before he could say a word. "I know what you're thinking, and just stop. I don't need you giving me grief about this whole situation along with everyone else on this planet."

"Mara, Mara, Mara. I'm insulted. Would I _ever_ do such a thing?"

"Yes. Now get in the speeder."

Karrde chuckled to himself as they both climbed in. "Where's the rest of your motley crew?" he asked.

"They're still at the hotel. I think Hobbie and Corran are hiding under the covers for as long as possible, meanwhile the eager Jedi Master is probably on his fifth hour of meditation or lightsaber practice."

Karrde snorted at Mara's annoyed tone. "So then, I was incorrect in my assumption that you forced them to stay behind so you could escape for several hours with some congenial company?"

Mara smiled. "Maybe." They drove in silence for a few moments. After maneuvering out of the spaceport and onto the main boulevard, Mara glanced over at Karrde. "Thanks for coming, by the way," she said softly, her tone actually grateful.

"Trust me, I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Mara rolled her eyes. "Yes, well. At least the hotel is nice. I got you a room."

"I'm sure it's lovely, I need you to drop me off at the safehouse right away, if you don't mind. I acquired some information that General Antilles should hear right away."

Mara grimaced. "What kind of information?"

"Oh, you know, Imperial activity on planet, that sort of thing."

"I was afraid of that," Mara sighed. "But I shouldn't be surprised; Skywalker seems to attract trouble wherever he goes."

"Don't give him all the credit," Karrde said. "The Rogues do well enough on their own, as do you if I recall correctly."

"Thanks," Mara replied dryly.

"But, since you brought him up…" Karrde trailed off, examining her face as she tried to hide her emotions. She didn't respond, so he continued. "So you're stuck playing house again. How did you manage to get roped into this one?"

"You know how," she snarled. "Kriffing NRI and their shoddy information. That's why _you're_ here now."

"It's too bad you didn't contact me to begin with, because I learned about the significance of 'companionship' on Plooma within a few hours of beginning my research."

"What do you want, a medal?" Mara muttered. "Seriously, Karrde. I think I'm going to kill someone before leaving this Force-forsaken planet—and I _mean it_ this time."

Karrde shook his head at her rancor. It was typical Mara, of course, but he didn't understand why she seemed to hold so much animosity towards Skywalker of all people. They had worked together plenty of times in the past. Something had to really be annoying her to make her so bitter about this assignment. He made a mental note to approach her about it later.

He reached out and placed a hand on her arm. "Oh come now, Mara. You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. It was bad enough when I had to pretend to be Lando's girlfriend—for _you_, I might add—and now I'm stuck playing _wife _to the great Jedi Master. I better not have to answer the door wearing one of Skywalker's shirts!"

"I always got the impression that you and Luke got along rather well. It won't be that bad."

"Wanna bet?" she shot back.

Karrde leaned back and smiled. "Why yes. Yes I would."

Mara shot him a skeptical look. "I don't like that tone of voice, Karrde."

"What?" he replied innocently. "I'd just like to propose a small wager, that's all."

Mara's curiosity got the best of her. She regarded him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm listening."

"I bet that by the end of the two weeks, you'll be forced to admit that you actually enjoyed being married to Luke Skywalker."

Mara burst out laughing and had to force herself to keep her eyes on the roadway and not crash their speeder. "Seriously? There's no way in hell that I'll _ever_ enjoy being married to him."

"Of course, there'll be no using the Force to hide your true feelings. There are people here who will be able to tell if you're lying. Plus, it would be extremely dishonorable on your part."

Mara feigned offense. "Now _I'm _the one who's insulted. Terms?"

"Oh, nothing major…if you win the bet, I'll let you poach any client of your choosing."

"Are you serious?" Mara replied, her jaw dropping. "Anyone?"

"Anyone."

"…And if you win?"

"Well, that's the interesting part. If I win, you come back and work for me."

It was very quiet in the speeder for several moments. Karrde could almost _hear_ Mara thinking. He had deliberately offered something he knew Mara wouldn't be able to resist—a chance to grow her business by a factor of one hundred percent in less than two weeks. While she was extremely successful for a small-time trader and had every right to be proud of her accomplishments in the months since she'd acquired the _Jade's Fire_and started her own business, Karrde knew that she wanted nothing more than to become a noted name in the Smuggler's Alliance. Taking over one of Karrde's contracts was one of the quickest ways to do that.

And Karrde was willing to risk such a loss for the chance to bring Mara back into his organization. He had helped set up her business and truly wanted her to be successful, but his goal in doing so had been for her to gain the experience necessary to someday take over his organization. She had gained that experience and proven that she could be a successful businesswoman, and now it was time for her to return to her rightful place as Karrde's lieutenant.

But as much as he had been recently encouraging her to fold her business back into his, she continuously refused, having gained a taste of freedom and not wanting to let it go. So he had no choice but to trick her into doing so.

Mara shook her head incredulously. "You really think I'm going to agree to that?" she asked.

"Yes, because I know you; you won't be able to resist the opportunity to poach one of my best clients."

"I'm _not _going back to work for you, Karrde."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you win that won't be a problem, now will it?" She didn't respond, so he smiled slyly and poked the nest one more time. "I thought you said there's no way you'd ever enjoy being married to Luke Skywalker?"

There was silence again…and then Karrde saw Mara's eyes twinkle, and he knew he had her then.

"Deal," she said, offering her hand. They shook, and Karrde chuckled inwardly.

It was time to call in some old favors.

* * *

><p>Wedge stifled a yawn with the back of his hand as he made his way towards the briefing room. To say he hadn't slept well the prior night would have been a dramatic understatement. There hadn't even been time to lay down. The moment Mara had informed him that Karrde would be coming to Plooma in order to assist with intelligence gathering and analysis, Wedge placed a holonet call back to Coruscant to speak with General Cracken. For the following nine and three quarters standard hours, he tried to convince the NRI Director that Karrde's help wasn't only helpful, it was vital to their mission.<p>

Cracken's response was understandable, heavy on the anger and light on the rationalism. If Wedge were to be honest, he would be rather upset if he were in that position. Cracken had just had his information network outsourced to a fringe smuggler and data broker. Worse yet, everyone actually _on_Plooma agreed it was the right move to make. It amounted to a rather sizable ego blow and it was something he wasn't about to stand for. The General was completely against the move and several hours in, it was obvious that no ground was going to be given.

Five hours into the process, Wedge terminated the holocall and began to reassess his options. He did need to find some way to get Karrde approved for the operation, the last thing he needed was to get into regulatory trouble while on a diplomatic mission. If Cracken wasn't going to listen to him, then he would have to find another way to put pressure on the man. Six hours in, he came up with a plan. Getting back onto the holonet terminal, he put in a call with the one politician in the Galaxy he could stand: Leia Organa Solo.

Wedge did feel bad for calling her in the middle of the night, but she was kind as always and more than willing to listen to his request. He did hear Han in the background threatening to kill him for calling at 0300 Coruscant standard time. Wedge made his pitch to a sleep deprived Leia, asking her to throw a bit of senate weight at Cracken to get him to cave. Leia, being the ever helpful being she was, said she'd put in a call to the General immediately (prompting another profanity laced statement from Han, who begged her to come back to bed).

Eight hours in, Leia commed back to say that she had left a rather strongly worded message with Cracken that more or less said that the senate was concerned that the input of one of Starfighter Command's highest ranked officers (at this point, Wedge mused that there were a few perks to being a General himself) were being ignored by NRI. She would hate to have to start a long and messy inquiry. Wedge thanked her and bid her good night (which elicited a loud "Finally!" from Han).

Nine and three quarters hours after he had started, General Cracken sent a terse message in which he relented and authorized Karrde's presence in the mission.

As he stepped into the briefing room, Wedge was greeted by the smuggler he had spent the entire night fighting for. Karrde smiled and extended a mug of caf towards him, which Wedge gratefully took.

"Long night with Cracken?" Karrde asked.

Wedge raised a brow. "Eavesdropping on my holonet calls?"

"Perish the thought."

Wedge made his way to the front of the makeshift briefing area where his pilots had gathered, quickly performing a headcount to make sure everyone was present. Confident that everyone was present, accounted for, and marginally alert, he began.

"Morning boys and girls," he said, setting the datapad tucked under his arm on the podium. "We've had a slight change of plans overnight—"

"Oh, I hope that means we're ditching this dump and heading for a sunny retreat on Mon Cal," Wes said. "I've been meaning to work on my tan for ages. My complexion has been hampering my ability to woo women."

Inyri Forge reared back and punched Wes in the arm, eliciting a rather pained yelp from the man.

"As I was saying, there's been a change of plans," Wedge continued, ignoring Wes' whimpers. "At 1330 hours local time yesterday, the diplomatic envoy was attacked by a pair of rooftop snipers. We were completely unaware that this was a possible threat and that simply is not acceptable. Because of this we have decided to..." he trailed off, pondering his words for a moment. "Bring in some outside help."

He gestured to his left. "You may be familiar with Talon Karrde, information broker and businessman."

"A pleasure to be working for you, General Antilles," Karrde responded with a slight bow.

"I'm sure you're drawing far more pleasure from the credits NRI is sending your way," Wedge said with a grin. Karrde merely offered a knowing smile. "Introductions out of the way, I'll cede the floor."

Nodding his thanks, Karrde stepped towards the holoprojector precariously situated on the top of a pair of storage crates and powered it on. "I'm well aware that NRI has downplayed the presence of the Remnant here on Plooma—"

Wes snickered. A moment later, the sound of fist-on-flesh could be heard, followed by another anguished yelp.

"—but it appears they have downplayed perhaps a bit too much," Karrde continued. An image of Plooma appeared on the projector. At various locations on the globe were distinct, red dots. "Over the past three months there have been approximately four dozen sightings of starfighter class ships. Normally, I would say that isn't overly notable. What is troubling is the lack of records. Plooma Security can offer no logs explaining why these ships were here or who they belong to."

"That's a bit on the disturbing side," Gavin Darklighter said. "About an hour ago we picked up an unknown contact on the sensors. Here for a moment, then it bolted. Appeared to be roughly the size of a small snubfighter."

"I imagine if you were to run an atmospheric trace where that ship was, you'd notice the distinct signs of twin-ion engines. Same with the other instances."

Tycho spoke up next. "Are you saying that Plooma is being visited by TIE snubfighters on a regular basis?"

"That appears to be the case," Karrde replied. "It gets more damning, though. My people haven't yet been able to fully follow the trail, but we have spotted instances of Imperial credits being funneled into on-world bank accounts. It's going to take more digging to find out where they're coming from and who they are going to, but I think it's safe to say there is a very active Remnant presence here."

"Fantastic," Dorset Konnair groaned. "Routine, Colonel Celchu said. We'll be bored, he insisted."

"Hey, don't blame me," Tycho objected. "I was just going off of NRI's reports."

Holding up a hand to silence his pilots, Wedge stepped back to the podium. "It does appear that things have gotten quite a bit more complicated. I'm going to need all of you to step up your game and stay on high alert. We'll be doubling up patrols, so expect a revamped duty rotation shortly. Questions anyone? No? Good. Dismissed."

Wedge allowed several Rogues to slip out first before he made his way to the exit. As he made his way down the hall, he couldn't help but overhear a conversation between two of his pilots.

"You know I've heard that the police sometimes pull Karrde in for questioning just because they find him interesting," Konnair said.

"I heard he lived in the hills of Dantooine for a turn and sustained himself on nothing but the land and the shelter he built with his own hands," Forge responded.

Wedge looked over his shoulder at Karrde. "So tell me, what kind of ale does the most interesting man in the Galaxy prefer? I think I owe you one."

"Well," Karrde looked thoughtful. "I don't always drink ale, but when I do, I prefer Lomin's."

* * *

><p>Hobbie stretched lazily in the backseat of the speeder as they sped through the outskirts of the capital towards one of Plooma's main mining operations. Mara sat beside him, sipping a cup of caf, doing her best to listen as the ever-attentive Murray Dyartes gave a very canned spiel about all the wonders his planet could offer the New Republic. Valara Lissiri sat in the front of the speeder next to its driver, looking as stone-faced as ever.<p>

Today they were foregoing diplomatic negotiations to tour the mining operations and historical archives. General Cracken had insisted that Hobbie, as the main representative of the New Republic military, go along to observe the mining operations. Hobbie hadn't been surprised when Mara offered to join him; Luke and Corran were touring Plooma's vast historical archives with Ambassador Gemar and Fiolla Flotto, and Hobbie could only imagine the horrific results of Mara being forced to listen to hours of Jedi history and worship. Truthfully, he was glad for the company, as Valara did not seem like a woman he wanted to spend hours alone with. She reminded him too much of Ysanne Isard. He shuddered at the thought.

"Plooma's mining operations have been in place for hundreds of years," Murray was saying. "Our resources put us into good standing with the Old Republic in spite of our remote location, and Plooma flourished for many years. The unobtainium that you desire comes from several sources on planet, with thousands of mining operations spread across several continents. Our greatest engineers have continuously refined the mining process, so now we can mine to great depths with very little ecological and environmental impact on the surrounding landscape…"

Once again Hobbie zoned out, instead watching the landscape pass by outside the speeder. In the distance, he could clearly see the faint landmarks of a mining operation, and a large one at that. Hobbie whistled to himself; if the New Republic could obtain Plooma's allegiance, the benefits would be astronomical for the military, especially Starfighter Command. With the increase in weapons and natural materials for building spacecraft, they could pretty much kiss the Imperial Remnant threat good-bye.

Ironically, as soon as that thought passed through Hobbie's mind, a familiar whine brought his head up sharply. He searched the sky, very grateful that they had taken an open speeder, and then he saw it—a shape he would recognize anywhere.

A TIE fighter.

Mara noticed it, too; Hobbie could feel her tensing beside him in the cramped backseat. They glanced at each other and sighed, taking their macrobinoculars from their belt. Hobbie studied the TIE for several moments, watching as it flew in a lazy pattern what looked to be several klicks from the mining operation. Then, it abruptly turned and zoomed away at an intense speed, its distinctive twin ion engines fading into nothingness. "Well, it seems that Karrde was right about the TIE fighters," she said dourly.

"And they seem most interested in the mining operations," Hobbie replied. "Interesting indeed."

Murray had been looking back and forth at them with a concerned expression on his face, obviously not following the import of what had just occurred. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

Mara glared at him. "Yes, there's a problem. You wanna tell me why there's a TIE fighter buzzing around your mining operation?"

"What?" Murray gasped, clearly out of his element.

"You didn't just see that TIE fighter?" Hobbie replied, pointing in the direction where the nimble craft had disappeared.

Murray shook his head vigorously, his eyes beginning to widen in fear, like a subordinate who had clearly done something wrong. In the front seat, Valara was speaking softly into a comlink, clearly agitated, ignoring both delegates from the New Republic.

Mara leaned forward. "Murray, answer me honestly—is there anything we should know about Imperial interests in your mining operations?"

The boy was petrified now, but he managed to spit out an answer. "No…I am not aware of any such thing, Captain Jade. I vow to you." Mara glanced to Hobbie and nodded; Murray was telling the truth.

"We should tell the others that we witnessed one of the fighters," Hobbie said, taking out his comlink and thumbing it to Wedge's frequency.

"That won't be necessary," Valara chimed in, turning around to finally grace them with a faint smile. "I apologize for the alarm. It seems some of our local boys decided it would be a good idea to spook our New Republic guests by flying Imperial ships. I can assure you that they are being detained as we speak."

Again Hobbie and Mara exchanged a glance. Valara made to speak into her comlink again, but Hobbie interrupted before she could do so. "I apologize, Director Lissiri, but may I ask _how _citizens of Plooma managed to obtain Imperial TIE fighters for recreational use?"

For just a moment, Valara seemed to bristle under Hobbie's questioning, but she immediately composed herself. "That is something we will investigate upon questioning the suspects."

"And just _why_ would your boys _want _to frighten us, Madame Director?" Mara asked. "I thought that everyone on Plooma was overjoyed to be graced with the presence of Jedi Knights? Or is there some information that you are not telling us?"

The two women glared at each other for long seconds. Murray glanced back and force between them, his eyes as large as saucers, clearly torn between the woman he was obviously besotted with and the woman who held his career in her hands. In the end he ignored both of them, staring down at his lap, deciding to sit out this conflict. Hobbie thought him wise beyond his years.

Finally, Valara broke the tension with another small, fake smile. "I assure you, Captain Jade, there is no conspiracy here, just an occasion of youthful folly. We are all eternally grateful to be in the presence of the New Republic." She paused for a moment, gritting her teeth. "And especially the Jedi."

Mara set her head on one side, then nodded sharply. "As you say, Director Lissiri." The older woman nodded in return and turned back towards the roadway in front of them. Murray heaved a sigh of relief and resumed his prepared speech, moving closer to Mara and doing his best to engage her in conversation.

Hobbie alone continued to stare at Valara, narrowing his eyes at her back. As if she felt him staring at her she glanced over her shoulder, regarding him with a cold look. Hobbie merely raised his eyebrows in response before she once again turned her eyes back to the road.

Shaking his head, Hobbie did his best to study the landscape, thinking that such knowledge may be useful in the future, and listen to Murray's history lesson. But he couldn't shake the feeling of dread out of his stomach. He might not be Force sensitive, but Hobbie had been in Starfighter Command for a very long time, and his instincts were as refined as any Jedi.

And his instincts were telling him that there was much more happening on Plooma than Director Lissiri was letting on.

Hobbie sighed; why, after so long with Rogue Squadron, did such things _still_ continue to surprise him?

* * *

><p>"And here Master Skywalker you can see our vast collection of information regarding the old Jedi Order which encompasses many shelves of our database and some of the information came directly from the Jedi archives in the old Jedi Temple and the information was stored here for safekeeping and my family made sure that our historical archives were protected from any outside attack and we made it our life's work to protect that information and to spread it to the Ploomians and let them know the triumphs of the Jedi Order and…"<p>

Corran leaned his head back and rolled his eyes for the thirty-ninth time as Fiolla Flotto led them on a tour of Plooma's vast archives. Situated in the heart of capital, it was almost as large as the archives that had been a part of the old Jedi Temple. While half the information was dedicated to Plooma's history, the other half was devoted to the history of the Jedi Order. Corran had sensed Luke's spike of curiosity as soon as they entered the halls, and he knew that if Tionne—the historian at Luke's Jedi Academy—had been there to view the archives, she would be salivating. The poor woman had been scouring the galaxy for any small bits and pieces of history she could find, and here was an entire library of information that could help the New Jedi Order grow and flourish. Corran certainly understood its importance.

He just wished that Fiolla wouldn't drink so much caf before leading them around. He was beginning to get a headache just listening to her.

"Oh! Master Skywalker! This the data I was most excited to show you! Please, if you will, follow me!" Fiolla grabbed Luke by his sleeve and yanked him down one of the large aisles that were lined with old-fashioned books, datacards, and other information storage devices. Next to Corran, Ambassador Gemar grimaced.

"I apologize for Fiolla's earnestness, Jedi Horn," he stated as they watched Fiolla drag Luke to various sections of the archives. "We are all very excited to have you here, of course, but Fiolla is a…special case."

Luke passed them by as Fiolla pulled him across the room; he gave Corran a shrug before turning his attention back to the young woman. Corran chuckled, then nodded to Gemar. "I can certainly see that. How old is she? Eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Twenty-five."

Corran's jaw dropped. _"Twenty-five?" _Perhaps it was her excitement that made her seem even more youthful than her years.

Gemar nodded in confirmation. "As I said, Fiolla is very…special. Her family has been operating these archives for centuries. She practically grew up in this location, learning all she could about the history of the Jedi Order. She was ecstatic to hear that Master Skywalker would be a part of these negotiations. Her lifelong dream has been to meet a Jedi Knight."

Fiolla's voice pierced through the cavernous room. "This is the information we have about Master Yoda! He was one of the Jedi Masters who instructed you! Along with Obi-Wan Kenobi! _His _file is right here! Let me show you!"

"Well…I'd say she hit the jackpot with Master Skywalker, wouldn't you?" Corran said.

Gemar stared at him blankly. "I'm sorry, I do not understand."

Corran waved his hand. "Just an expression. Anyway, your information will be extremely valuable to the Jedi Order. We cannot thank you enough for allowing us access."

"It is our pleasure," Gemar replied, bowing respectfully. "Plooma has always held a high level of regard for the Jedi Knights. We were very disturbed by the events of the late Emperor's regime. It is unfortunate that it has taken us so long to return to the Republic. I'm sorry to say that certain elements of our government have not been very enthusiastic about rejoining a galactic government."

Before Corran could question Gemar about the Ploomians who opposed joining the Republic, he saw Luke striding towards them, having extricated himself from Fiolla's grasp. The blonde woman trailed dutifully behind him, practically stepping on his cloak in her earnestness. "Ambassador Gemar, your archives are extremely impressive," Luke stated. Behind him, Fiolla beamed with pride. "Would it be possible for me to copy several of the documents onto my personal datapad?"

"Certainly!" Fiolla screamed, jumping towards Luke and grabbing his datapad out of his grasp. "I will copy whatever data you desire!"

Luke thinned his lips, and Corran sensed him reaching out to the Force for patience. "That would be lovely, Fiolla. I was hoping to copy the information about Master Yoda and Master Kenobi."

"It would be my great honor!" she exclaimed, running away at top speed to one of the computer terminals. Gemar shook his head as she disappeared, then his comlink beeped. He stepped aside to answer it, then returned to the two Jedi.

"I apologize, but I must attend to this matter. If you will excuse me?"

As soon as Gemar was gone, Luke placed his head in his hand, grimacing slightly. "I don't know about you, Corran, but this whole worshipping the Jedi thing is starting to bother me," he said.

Corran clasped his hand to his heart, feigning disbelief. "No, you don't say?"

"Oh, I hope it wasn't obvious to Fiolla…I don't want to hurt the poor girl's feelings…"

"No, you're doing a good job of hiding it. Just be glad she doesn't have the Force."

"I almost wish she _did_," Luke replied. "To her, being a Jedi is the highest goal one can achieve in life—one that she can never hope to attain. It seems wrong, almost."

"I know what you mean," Corran said, "…especially considering there's someone you know who _is _extremely strong in the Force and yet refuses to commit to the Jedi Order. And I don't mean your sister."

Luke snorted. "Yeah, I had been thinking that myself. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Quite. So what about this whole Jedi-worshipping thing _really _bothers you, Luke? Yes, Fiolla is…exuberant...but she's not intolerable. She's actually very pleasant. What is it?"

"I don't know, to be honest," Luke replied thoughtfully. "It just seems…wrong, in a way. Maybe I'm just so used to people being skeptical of or just plain hating the Jedi."

"It should be a nice change of pace, then."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said to Wedge when he proposed this mission to me. And at first it _was_nice to be appreciated, but it's just so over-the-top now. It's way beyond appreciation. I don't want to be worshipped when I haven't earned it."

"Perhaps you've forgotten, but you _did _blow up the Death Star, lead the fight against the Empire, and restart the Jedi Order."

Ever the farmboy, Luke waved his hand, dismissing all his achievements. "Sure, those things deserve appreciation…a medal ceremony, even…but this goes way beyond that. They're treating us like we're gods. It reminds me too much of Palpatine."

"Oh," Corran said. "Yes. I see your point."

Before they could continue their conversation, Fiolla ran up to them and thrusted the datapad back into Luke's hands. "I transferred the data just as you requested, Master Skywalker! Is there anything else that you desire?" she asked, beaming up at him.

"No, thank you Fiolla, that will be all for now. If you don't mind, I'd like to examine the archives myself now."

"Of course, Master Skywalker! Whatever you desire!"

Luke turned to Corran, motioning him to follow, and they began to walk toward the computer terminals. Luke suddenly turned around, causing Fiolla to almost run into him. He reached out and touched the girl's arm. She immediately turned a bright red.

"Fiolla, I was hoping to examine the archives with Jedi Horn."

"Yes, of course!" she replied, nodding her head vigorously, but making no effort to move.

Luke grimaced. "Privately, please."

"Oh." Fiolla looked down at the floor. "Yes. Of course, Master Skywalker. Whatever you desire." She turned around and walked towards the bank of turbolifts that entered onto the floor, taking a seat on one of the benches, looking positively forlorn.

"Oh, I feel like I've just kicked a small animal," Luke groaned.

"Don't worry, Luke," Corran said. "I'm sure the next time you look at her, she'll perk right up again."

Luke glanced over his shoulder and gave Fiolla a small smile. She immediately straightened up, smoothed out her hair, and waved furiously—but remained in place on the bench.

Corran glanced at Luke. "See? That's two admirers you have on this trip. Except, instead of fawning when you look at her, the other one beats you up."

"Corran?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up or I'm siccing my wife on you."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Hobbie rubbed his eyes and wearily stared at the communication terminal in front of him. It had been a long day, and all he wanted to do at this point was go to his room, lock the door behind him, curl up in bed, and hibernate for a few standard months. What he would give to be able to tune out his Jedi companions. _No, not companions. Definitely not companions. Allies. Coworkers. Anything but companions._ The last thing he needed was to get sucked into _that_ particular bit of cultural misunderstanding.

Sleep would arrive before long, Hobbie told himself. Right after he reported back to the Rogues. He powered on the terminal and patched himself through to the safehouse on a secured, encrypted channel.

"Well good evening, friend," Wes Janson suddenly appeared on the display. Hobbie did his best to suppress an oncoming twitch of agitation.

"Where's Forge?" Hobbie asked. "Last I checked, she was the one handling communications on this shift."

"Patrol rotation was shaken up, so now you get to report to me," Wes beamed. "So, how was your day?"

Hobbie rolled his eyes. "Usual diplomatic sight-seeing. Saw a bunch of stuff that bored me to tears, listened to Skywalker and Jade bicker like an old married couple. Put up with Horn _encouraging_ them to act that way. If it were up to me, those two would lock themselves in a room, light a few candles, and kriff each other senseless."

"Candles?" Wes mused aloud. "You are a helpless romantic, aren't you?"

"Shut up. Listen, I need you get Wedge to approve a credit trace. Valara Lissiri, director of Ploomian Security."

"It's PlooSec!" Corran shouted from the hallway as he passed by. This time, Hobbie couldn't quite manage to hide his annoyance.

"I'm going to kill him, Wes," Hobbie muttered. "At the very least, I'm going to ask the Senate to put Mirax up for some sort of citizen's bravery commendation for agreeing to marry him. Poor girl deserves some kind of award for that."

"Oh don't do that."

"Kill Corran?"

"No, give Mirax a medal. There's already too much ego in that relationship."

Hobbie waved a hand dismissively. "Can you get the credit trace approved or not? I want Karrde to run it as soon as possible."

"No," Wes said, shaking his head.

"Why not? And if the answer is 'you didn't say the magic word,' I will personally commandeer a speeder, drive to the safehouse, and pummel you to within an centimeter of your life."

"Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the hotel bed this morning," Wes said with a pout. "I just need you to give me some more details. You are about to implicate a rather prominent local authority in some sort of conspiracy by having us run a trace on her financials."

Hobbie took a moment to take a calming breath so he wouldn't berate Wes for being so juvenile. Again. Finally he told Wes of his suspicions about the Ploomian Security director, stemming from the unusually cold act despite the fact that the rest of the planet seemed to be overjoyed with the presence of three Jedi (and their oft-ignored fellow diplomat from Starfighter Command). He didn't need the Force to detect the animosity that Lissiri was directing towards the New Republic delegation. The tipping point had come during the drive-by of the mining facilities earlier in the day. The director wouldn't confirm it, but Hobbie knew that he had seen an Imperial TIE starfighter soaring away from the site.

"You're sure it was a TIE?" Wes asked.

"Absolutely certain of it," Hobbie confirmed. "I don't get it. The Remnant and Seinar Fleet Systems keep even surplus TIE craft heavily locked down. It would cost a fortune to snag just one that managed to slip onto the black market."

Wes rubbed his chin. "That does line up with some strange anomalies we've noticed. Engine signatures, almost assuredly some kind of twin-ion type. Not to mention Karrde's information that he briefed us with today."

Additional confirmation. Twin-ion engines had been the staple of Imperial starfighters for years for their incredible efficiency. If a craft left behind an energy signature like that, chances were good that it belonged to an Imperial craft of some sort.

"Lissiri claimed the ship I saw was being piloted by locals," Hobbie said. "I don't buy it for a second."

"Neither do I," Wes agreed. "So you think Lissiri is behind all this?"

Hobbie could only offer a shrug. "I can't know for certain, but there's a lot of evidence that seems to indicate we should do some cursory investigation work, at the very least."

"I'll pass this along to Wedge, then. Oh, one more question." A smile formed on Wes' face. "Is it true our old boss is playing the good husband role now?"

"It is," Hobbie sighed. "He has been since dinner, and it's thrown Mara for a complete loop. Wes, there's so much unresolved angst here you could _swim_ through it. I trust you're saving recordings of those two on the security feeds so we can blackmail Luke later?"

Wes offered a toothy grin. "I wouldn't dare pass up a blackmail opportunity like this. Unfortunately, I seem to be getting more Corran playing matchmaker right now than dirt on Luke."

"Keep recording, I'm sure you'll get something before long."

Before his friend could respond, Hobbie shut off the communication terminal and stood, striding out into the hallway. In the distance, he could make out the sounds of Mara screaming at Luke. If that wasn't a cue to go to his room and shut out the rest of the Galaxy, he didn't know what was.

* * *

><p>Looking dourly into the mirror that hung in their living area, Hobbie smoothed out the finishing touches on his dress uniform. He hated wearing the thing—every pilot did—but they all had to admit that it was usually very effective at impressing onlookers. That was, of course, when you weren't trying to impress a planet full of Jedi worshippers. Hobbie wagered that the Ploomians wouldn't even notice he showed up to the negotiations wearing Wes's Lieutenant Kettch doll.<p>

Sighing at his reflection, he finished clasping the top buttons and called out to his fellow Rogue. "Are you ready?"

Corran sauntered out of his bedroom, hooking his lightsaber to his belt and adjusting his Jedi cloak. Hobbie narrowed his eyes at the Corellian, jealous that he got to wear something much more comfortable than the Starfighter Command dress uniform. "As ready as I'll ever be," Corran said. "You heard from the two lovebirds next door?"

Hobbie rolled his eyes; this was only their third day on Plooma and even he was starting to get annoyed with Corran's matchmaker comments. He began to wonder how long it would take for Mara to finally snap. He could only hope that he was around when it happened. Hobbie chuckled to himself; even with all his talents, Corran Horn wouldn't stand a chance against an enraged Mara Jade. It wouldn't even be a fair contest.

Hobbie pushed his devious thoughts out of his mind. "Not yet," he replied, trying his best to sound polite.

"Well then, let's go get them," Corran suggested, heading towards the adjoining room. Hobbie sighed, gathered his belongings, and followed.

Mara was sitting on the couch, staring into space, and looking somewhat annoyed and very confused. Luke was at the sink, humming to himself while he cleaned some dishes. He flashed his fellow pilots a bright smile. "You guys ready to go?" he asked cheerfully.

"Um…yeah," Hobbie answered, very aware of the awkwardness in the room.

"Great, I was just finishing up these dishes!" Luke said. Hobbie glanced around the kitchen area, wondering why Luke was cleaning, as neither Luke nor Mara cooked that he knew of.

Shrugging his shoulders, Hobbie glanced at Mara. "You ready to go?"

The smuggler quickly snapped out of her daydream and grabbed her datapad from the table. "Yes, please, let's go."

Before she and Hobbie could cross the threshold, the Jedi Master appeared next to them as if from thin air, holding the door open with a chivalrous gesture. "Allow me," he said to Mara. Mara stared skeptically at him, rolled her eyes, and left the room in a rush.

They met Karrde by the turbolifts and as they all travelled downstairs together, Luke discussed in extremely pleasant tones the agenda for today's negotiations and continuously asked for Mara's opinion and input. Eventually Mara snapped and yelled at him to leave her the kriff alone.

Once they got into Murray's speeder, Hobbie couldn't resist any longer. Leaning over to Mara, he asked softly, "Okay, what is going on?"

"I have no idea," she murmured in reply. Turning her head so her mouth was directly in Hobbie's ear, she whispered, almost as if she didn't belief it herself, "He brought me breakfast in bed."

Hobbie was so startled that he almost starting choking. He coughed to cover up, but thankfully Luke, Corran, and Karrde were still engaged in intent discussion on the other side of the speeder and didn't appear to notice. "He brought you breakfast in bed?" he repeated incredulously.

"Yes!" Mara huffed. "And it wasn't just some prepackaged meal and instant caf—this was an actual, home-cooked meal with the really exotic caf you have to press yourself."

"Wow," Hobbie said. "That was..."

"Nice?" Mara suggested. Hobbie grinned to himself; only Mara Jade would be so annoyed at someone being overly nice to her. "Yeah. I just—I have _no _idea."

"Mara?" Luke called suddenly.

She turned her head slowly. "Yes?" she growled.

The sandy-haired Jedi flashed another brilliant smile. "You look very lovely today."

Mara's brow furrowed as if she were trying to translate Luke's comment, and she opened her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to respond. Finally, she said, "Thank you?"

With a coy look, Luke turned back to the others and continued their conversation. Hobbie glanced between Luke and Mara, still confused beyond belief. Sure, Luke was a genuinely pleasant person, and while he had always cared for Mara, he had never acted this way around her. He was acting like she was his actual wife, and not just because he was trying to annoy her, as he had been the previous two days. Hobbie wondered exactly what was going on—

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tiny smirk on Talon Karrde's face. The smuggler must have sensed him staring, because he met Hobbie's gaze and, when Mara wasn't looking, casually placed a finger over his lips.

_Oh no,_ Hobbie thought. He knew he shouldn't think it…it only led to horrible things…but he couldn't help it. He suddenly had a _very _bad feeling about this.

Hobbie's bad feeling continued all the way to the state house, and even while the two delegations exchanged salutations and prepared for the day's negotiations. Unlike the opening ceremony/pep rally, only the eight delegates, along with several other planetary representatives from Plooma, were present in the large convocation chamber. Hobbie was partly relieved not to have to deal with a frenzied, Jedi-loving crowd, but also knew that he was more likely to be involved in the discussions with a smaller group present. He hoped that he was only called upon to address military-related questions. Those he could answer fine. With harsh memories of Adumar still in his mind, he decided to leave the actual diplomatic stuff to the others.

As the casual discussion in the room began to wind down, Valara Lissiri stood up from her place at the large, circular wooden table. "Shall we begin?" she asked without preamble. Not waiting for a response she thrust her datapad into Murray's hands. "Take notes—and they better be more thorough than last time."

"Yes, Director Lissiri," Murray responded forlornly, refusing to meet his superior's gaze. Hobbie cocked his head, wondering why the seemingly competent Murray had garnered Valara's wrath. Hobbie also noticed that Mara was narrowing her eyes at the other woman. Before he could consider that further, Ambassador Gemar began speaking.

Hobbie tried his best to pay attention the negotiations, he really did, but he found his mind wandering several times. He couldn't help but think about his plans for when he got back to Coruscant. There was a new speeder he wanted to buy, renovations to make to his apartment, a holothriller he was dying to see. While Plooma was a pleasant enough planet, he was already eager to get off the rock, especially after becoming informed of an Imperial threat on planet. He did not want to run another gauntlet, be forced to dress in women's clothes, or fight against overwhelming odds in an unfamiliar spacecraft. He shuddered—had that really been five years ago?

Finally forcing himself to pay attention, Hobbie listened as Luke and Gemar read through a list of Ploomian and New Republic requests for an alliance, easily coming to an agreement on all terms. Everything was going smoothly, and Hobbie began to wonder if perhaps they would be able to leave Plooma before the two-week period was over.

Of course, even as the thought went through his mind, his hopes were quickly dashed by Director Lissiri's piercing voice. "Ambassador Gemar, pardon the interruption, but I was hoping that our guests from the New Republic could shed some light on a question that's been on my mind since our leaders agreed to open these negotiations."

Gemar glanced at her sharply, but nodded in acquiescence. "Of course, Director Lissiri. Go right ahead."

The black-haired woman smiled thinly before turning to Luke. "Master Skywalker, you have done very well in meeting all of our requests for an alliance with your galactic government. However, I still can't help but question exactly _why_Plooma should align itself with the New Republic."

"Oh?" Luke asked calmly.

"Surely you can understand. We have been doing quite well as an independent world for many years, Master Skywalker. I don't really see what exactly we have to gain from such an alliance."

"Well, for starters, a say in the galactic government and a better military defense," Corran answered.

"Ahh, yes, Jedi Horn, but why would Plooma need a better military defense?" Valara asked. "We have no enemies. There is no need to strengthen our military. My Ploomian Security Force does a fine job in keeping our citizens safe."

Hobbie could no longer keep quiet. These discussions were starting to remind him of another very bad situation. And to think he had promised himself to stay silent… "Director Lissiri, if you want Plooma to remain a sovereign world, you will need better defenses for when the Imperial Remnant comes knocking at your door," he advised. "Or do you think that your police force will be able to hold off a Star Destroyer and several squadrons of TIE fighters?"

A very devious grin spread across Valara's face. "But, why would the Imperial Remnant suddenly become interested in Ploomian affairs?"

"Because if you join the New Republic…" Hobbie trailed off, mentally slapping himself, realizing the trap.

The room grew silent, and Valara's cold eyes met each of the New Republic delegates in turn. "Exactly, Major Klivian. Plooma has nothing to gain by joining the New Republic except the wrath of the Empire. If I may be frank, I have to question why we did not open negotiations with them, as they are our neighbors, not the New Republic."

"Director Lissiri!" Gemar shouted. "This is not the time for such a discussion!"

"That's alright, Ambassador," Luke said. "If we can't speak plainly during these negotiations, there's no point in having them." He turned to Valara. "You're right, Director Lissiri. Plooma would be taking an awful risk by joining the New Republic."

Hobbie could hardly believe what he was hearing. Luke was supposed to be encouraging Plooma to join the New Republic, not pointing out the dangers inherit in such an alliance! He glanced around the room, taking in the others' expressions of disbelief. Fiolla stared open-mouthed at the Jedi Master she so admired. Murray had finally taken his attention from the datapad and was glancing fearfully at Valara. Corran, Mara, and Karrde merely gave Luke curious looks.

Valara herself seemed surprised by Luke's words. "I beg your pardon?" she finally said.

"You're right," Luke repeated. "It is entirely understandable why you are hesitant to join us."

Valara looked at Gemar victoriously. "You see, Ambassador? Even the vaunted Jedi Master cannot provide adequate reasons for us to rejoin a galactic government."

"I wasn't finished," Luke continued, his voice commanding even in its softness. Hobbie recognized the tone from when Luke served as Rogue Leader and later a general. It was one of the many reasons why people listened to Luke Skywalker when he spoke. Hobbie suppressed a grin, anticipating Luke's next words.

Before he continued, Luke looked pointedly to the planetary representatives in the room. "Ambassador Gemar, would it be possible to ask for the two delegations to speak privately?"

"Of course," Gemar responded, nodding at the others, who quickly left the room. Once the two delegations were alone, Luke stood from the table, pacing a bit before turning his gaze to Murray.

"Are you taking thorough notes?" he asked the young man.

"Um…yes?" Murray replied, confused.

"Good." Luke turned to Valara, his blue eyes as hard as Hobbie had ever seen.

"Director Lissiri," Luke began, "you obviously know my history in the war against the Empire. I will not bore you with such soulless lists of accomplishments that the holopress love to dole out to their audiences. Instead, let me recall the actions and motivations of my fellow diplomats."

He turned to the others at the table. "Major Derek Klivian attended the Imperial Academy and had a vaunted career in front of him until he decided to defect to the Rebel Alliance. He has served Starfighter Command for over eighteen years and is one of the best pilots I know. Major Klivian started out fighting _for_ the Empire, but after seeing firsthand the horrors of the Empire, he decided that he wanted to risk life and limb—rather literally, I might add—to instead join the Rebel Alliance."

Luke now turned to Corran. "Captain Corran Horn served as a security officer on his homeworld of Corellia before enlisting in the New Republic, knowing it was the only way to escape the threats of the Empire. He joined Rogue Squadron and later attended my academy on Yavin IV. He now serves as both a starfighter pilot and a Jedi Knight, and has made it his life's work to defeat the Empire once and for all, fighting even though it takes him away from his wife and two young children at home."

"Talon Karrde," Luke continued, "spent many years struggling to remain neutral in the Galactic Civil War. It wasn't until the emergence of Grand Admiral Thrawn that he found himself compelled to take a side, and he did so at great threat to his life and the life of his subordinates. Even now, Captain Karrde continues to assist the New Republic at his discretion. Even someone who strives to remain neutral cannot sit idly by while the New Republic continues to fight back the Imperial Remnant."

Now Luke looked to Mara; he gave her a tender smile. "And Mara Jade has more reason than anyone at this table to be a part of the Empire, and yet she has remained a staunch ally to the New Republic—but most of all, to me."

Luke turned back to Valara, who was staring at him, dumbfounded. "If that doesn't answer your question as to why Plooma should not ally itself with the Imperial Remnant, I'm not sure anyone will be able to convince you, Director Lissiri."

Luke once again took his seat, and Hobbie suppressed the urge to break into applause. From glancing at the others at the table, it looked like they were all struggling to do the same thing. Even Mara was regarding him with carefully masked respect.

After a few moments, Valara composed herself, tilting her head in tolerable acceptance of Luke's argument. "Master Skywalker, it is completely understandable why you and your fellow delegates fought against the Empire. However, the Imperial Remnant is not the same organization as the former Galactic Empire. They do not follow the same policies or commit the same atrocities. It begs the question: why would the Remnant attack unless Plooma decides to join the New Republic?"

"Desperation." Everyone turned to Hobbie, and he wanted to clap his hand over his mouth in disgust. He had promised himself that he would stay quiet!

"Excuse me, Major Klivian?" Valara asked scornfully. "Would you care to explain?"

Hobbie sighed. "Madame Director, the Imperial Remnant is mere light years from Plooma. You have an abundance of natural resources, including one that is used primarily for building weapons and starfighters. The Imperial Remnant is continuously losing battles and territory to the New Republic. Do you actually believe that they won't soon come looking for any advantages in the war?"

"They have not done so yet, why would their interest suddenly change?"

"What part of 'desperate' do you not understand?" Hobbie asked exasperatedly. "The New Republic has been steadily conquering Imperial territory for years. Many of our tactical experts are claiming that the Remnant won't last much longer fighting against us. Do you really think their leaders won't do anything they can to gain an advantage? And let me tell you, when the Empire comes knocking, they're not going to sit here at your table and acquiesce to a list of demands. They will come here in force and you can say good-bye to any sovereignty you may have once enjoyed. You can only pray that you'll get a decent Moff, and not someone like Tarkin."

"And I can assure that you plenty of Moffs like Tarkin still exist," Mara added softly, glaring stonily at Valara. "Madame Director, you wonder why Plooma should not voluntarily join the Imperial Remnant? It's simple—the Moffs in charge were appointed by Emperor Palpatine, and to this day those individuals are still fighting to restore the Galactic Empire to its former glory. I served that Empire, and I have since learned that the Empire I loyally served was a horrible, despicable organization because it was led by a despicable, horrible man. Nobody in the Empire was free, least of all myself.

"You are correct—the Imperial Remnant is a much more moderate organization than when Palpatine ruled. But the fact still remains that those in charge _want the old Empire to exist again._ An Empire that was filled with deception and slavery and subjugation and the destruction of its enemies and _entire planets._If you can honestly say that you want to ally yourself with men like that, then perhaps the New Republic does not want Plooma's allegiance at all."

Now Mara gestured to Luke and Corran. "And you claim to revere the Jedi Knights, even going so far as to place their opinions above those of the New Republic's most decorated statesmen. Don't forget that the Empire sought to destroy those who you so greatly admire."

The room fell into silence again. "Thank you, Captain Jade," Ambassador Gemar finally said. He turned to Valara. "Were your questions answered to your satisfaction, Director?" he asked angrily.

"Yes," she replied in turn.

After a curd nod, Gemar turned back to Luke, and the two men resumed the scheduled discussion. The rest of the delegation chimed in when appropriate, but Valara remained silent for the remainder of the meeting. After several hours, the next round of negotiations was scheduled in three days time. Hobbie cheered inwardly; perhaps he could catch up on some sleep during their days off.

Then Ambassador Gemar asked if the entire delegation would be willing to tour some of Plooma's other mining facilities on the days in between their meetings. Of course, Luke graciously accepted the offer. Mara gave him a dirty look. Corran sidled up between the two and made a crass remark advising them to keep their hands off each other during the tours.

Hobbie mentally banged his head against the wall.

* * *

><p>As the New Republic delegation waited outside the state house for their speeder, Talon Karrde couldn't help but overhear an exchange between Luke and Mara, who were standing several feet away from the rest of the group. He, along with Corran Horn, listened to the conversation with feigned disinterest.<p>

"You were very impressive today, Mara," Luke praised. "I take back every doubt I had about your diplomatic prowess."

Mara shrugged her shoulders, dismissing his compliment. "Just earning my keep here."

"Oh you exceeded it, I would say. I'll have to remember to commend Corran for thinking to invite you."

"No, don't compliment him, that's the last thing the galaxy needs, Horn to have an even bigger ego. Besides, you were quite impressive yourself," Mara offered begrudgingly. "Must be all that Jedi Master diplomacy you have now, or perhaps just some proddings from the Force?" she added, somewhat dismissively.

Luke shrugged self-consciously. "Actually, the Force had little to do with it. I asked Leia and Mon Mothma for some tips before we left."

Mara gave him a sharp look. "You did?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"No reason," Mara quickly replied.

After a moment, Luke said cautiously, "I was hoping I could buy you dinner this evening. There's a restaurant in the hotel that Ambassador Gemar highly recommended. It's supposed to be one of the best on Plooma. But if you have more important things to do, I completely understand. I know you are very busy. I can even bring up some food if you'd like—"

Mara cut off Luke's rambling before he could go on any longer. "Shut up Skywalker. Sure, you can buy me dinner. We might as well keep up appearances, right?"

"You're right, wife." Luke grinned at her, and she sighed and rolled her eyes in return. Just then the speeder arrived, and Luke held the door open for Mara, eliciting another annoyed huff from the redhead, but he ignored her and placed his hand gently on her back, guiding her inside.

Watching the Jedi Master at work, Karrde couldn't keep the poodoo-eating grin from spreading across his face. If his calculations were correct (and they always were), by the time the two weeks were up he'd have an additional crewmember back onboard the _Wild Karrde_.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

"You know, we should go on vacation," Wes mused aloud. "When was the last time we took some time off?"

Tycho looked over his shoulder, cocking a brow. "Six months ago. It ended with you, me, Hobbie, and Wedge in a holding cell. Winter and Iella had to post bail for us, which is why I'm under strict orders from my better half never to seek recreational pursuits with you again."

"Why did you get married, Tycho? You used to be so much more fun."

Rolling his eyes, Tycho returned his attention to the macrobinoculars in his hand, peering out into the distance at a mining site. There didn't appear to be too much traffic. Some individuals milled about on foot while material was loaded into large cargo speeders. Frowning to himself, he adjusted the sights and zoomed in on the several of the vehicles on the perimeter. Once again, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. He was beginning to wonder if Karrde's information was right.

"Well that's odd," Wes muttered.

"I told you to lay off those ration bars," Tycho replied. "Those things are Clone Wars era."

"No, not that, though I appreciate your concern for my gastrointestinal functions. Take a look about a half-kilometer due east."

Shifting a bit (and doing his best to ignore the chunks of gravel he was laying on), Tycho scanned eastward. Nestled atop a small hill was a Lambda-class shuttle. On most worlds, that wouldn't have been cause for alarm. Unfortunately, Plooma wasn't most worlds. It was a backwater planet with little in the way of credits, which made the sight of a rather expensive, military grade transport all the more surprising. Ships like this were usually in the hands of governments with _very_ deep pockets, and Tycho could only think of two in the Galaxy that could afford them: the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant.

"Just to confirm," Tycho said quietly, "we're the only Republic presence here on Plooma, yes?"

"As far as I know, that's correct," Wes responded.

"So if you and I were to wager a guess, would it be safe to say that's probably a Remnant shuttle?"

"Seems like a plausible explanation to me."

Rising to his knees, Tycho returned the macrobinoculars to his belt. "We need to get back to the safehouse and tell Wedge about—"

"What do you two think you're doing?" a rather gruff voice said from behind him.

Slowly turning to face the guard standing behind him, Tycho flashed the most diplomatic smile he could muster. "Is there a problem?"

"You're in a restricted area," the guard said.

"Restricted area?" Wes interjected. "Do you know who we are, son?"

The guard only offered an stare devoid of amusement.

"We're inspectors from the capital city," Wes responded with all the confidence in the Galaxy.

"We're not due for an inspection."

"It's a _surprise _inspection," Wes said. "You know, one without any warning. Need to see how you all are running things out here."

The guard's eyes narrowed. "Let me see your identification."

Tycho winced and offered a sideways glance towards Wes. As near as he figured, they had two options. The first was to talk their way out of this mess. The second was to take a more forceful approach to diffusing the situation. The path they would take, of course, depended on the guard's next action. If he seemed willing to talk, perhaps they could get away without too much excitement. On the other hand, if he wasn't in the mood for conversation...

"I'm calling my supervisor," the guard said, reaching into his pocket to fish out a comlink.

"Wes," Tycho muttered through the side of his mouth.

"On it," Wes replied.

Before the guard could thumb on the comlink, Wes delivered a vicious right hook followed by a left jab to the ribs. The guard stumbled backwards, but was only momentarily fazed. The guard straightened, and it was then Tycho noticed that the man was a good half-meter taller than either himself or Wes. Perhaps he had abandoned the diplomatic approach a touch too quickly. Glaring, the guard stooped down and grabbed Wes by the collar of his jacket, lifting him off the ground. He then brought his right hand back and clenched it into a fist.

"Tycho!" Wes said, his eyes wide.

"On it," Tycho replied, hastily pulling his blaster out of its holster and fumbling to switch the fire setting to stun.

Two things occurred nearly simultaneously. The first was the sound of fist-on-flesh, accompanied by Wes's muffled cry of agony. A split-second later, Tycho's blaster went off, catching the guard square on the hip. The large man's eyes rolled into the back of his head and, at the same moment, he released his hold on Wes. The two fell to the ground in a heap.

"We're going to have to haul him back with us," Tycho mused aloud. "Are you okay?"

Wes hands covered his face, a trickle of blood dripping between them. "I fink he bwoke mah nothe."

"He what?"

"I fink he bwoke mah nothe!"

"I'm sorry, come again, Wes?"

"I hathe yoo tho muth."

"Really, you need to enunciate."

"Go kwiff yoothef."

* * *

><p>Wedge was exhausted.<p>

Climbing out of his X-Wing, he could feel every minute that he had spent in those cramped confines. His patrol was finished, but his day wasn't quite over yet. He nodded towards Lieutenant Soldam and Flight Officer Rusarian, the next Rogues on the duty rotation. They appeared to be just as weary as he felt. Heaving a sigh, Wedge made his way towards the safehouse, thankful to be inside and out of the blistering Ploomian sun.

He was greeted by Captain Forge and a steaming mug of caf. "Welcome back, General."

"Forge," Wedge said, "you are a life saver. Are the others here?"

"Our favorite diplomats arrived just a few minutes ago and are waiting in the briefing room. Tycho and Wes are there as well, so I do believe they are ready to go."

"Best news I've heard all day," Wedge said, dismissing Forge and continuing down the hallway.

Wedge took a sip from his mug, savoring the taste of the bitter but consciousness-promoting drink. What should have been a blue milk run that provided ample opportunities for regular sleep had turned into a logistical nightmare. He and his pilots were pulling long hours on patrols, scanning the space around Plooma for any signs of hostile activity. Sensors had yet to pick up any definitive visual sightings of enemy starships, but they had come across more signs of ionization signatures typical of Imperial starfighters.

Ideally, Wedge would be in bed by this point. He had just wrapped up a rather grueling six hour patrol on top of a twelve hour shift monitoring the security feeds. Ever since Karrde had thrown out the suggestion that the Imperial Remnant might be around, Wedge had been running on little more than a trace amount of sleep and a good dose of adrenaline. Unfortunately, one could only go so long in such conditions. He figured he could hold out a few more days, but he was already looking forward to even a few hours of rack time.

That's why Wedge did his best to hide the disappointment he felt when Tycho called for a short-notice debriefing. There wasn't even time to strip out of his flightsuit and change. Wedge made his way to the safehouses's briefing room, extricating himself from the top-half of his orange pressure suit and awkwardly attempting to tie the sleeves around his waist while balancing his half-full mug of caf. As he walked into the room, he was greeted by the sight of Tycho and Wes. He debated asking why Wes had a cold pack on his nose, but thought better of it. At the opposite end of the room sat Hobbie, busying himself with a datapad and appearing to do his best to ignore Luke and Mara. Wedge couldn't help but notice that Mara seemed a little more flustered than usual while Luke somehow appeared more calm.

He definitely didn't want to know what that meant.

"Let's make this quick," Wedge said. "I've got a date with a rickety cot and a worn pillow."

Wes pulled the cold compress off his face. "We foun a thuttle ah thah mining thithe."

Wedge looked to Tycho. "What?"

"He got into a scuffle, broke his nose," Tycho said, patting Wes on the shoulder. "What he was trying to tell you was that we found a Lambda-class shuttle at the mining site."

"I'm guessing it wasn't Ploomian."

From behind Wedge, Karrde entered the briefing room and spoke up. "Safe assumption. I just did a bit of digging and Ploomian Security—"

"PloSec!" Corran interjected.

"—doesn't have anything on record matching that designation. Near as I can tell, that ship was either Republic or Imperial Remnant. Unless you boys didn't tell me about an additional presence from your people here..."

"It's just us," Wedge confirmed. "Which means that shuttle probably came from our old bucketheaded friends."

"Fantastic," Mara said. "_Why _did I let you talk me into this, Corran? I didn't sign up to tango with the Remnant."

"Lightsaber incident," Corran coughed into his hand, eliciting a sharp glare from Mara.

Luke glanced curiously at his wife for two weeks. "Lightsaber incident?" he asked.

If looks could kill, Wedge was certain that Corran and Luke would be very dead men. He raised a hand to gather everyone's attention. "I think we can all agree that things have just gotten quite a bit more complicated. I'm tempted to send a few of my pilots to shadow the four of you for security purposes, but I don't want to let on that we suspect something, just in case we're being monitored. Karrde, is there anything else you can give us?"

The information broker shook his head. "Not right now. I might have more on this world than NRI, but let's be honest. There hasn't been much of a reason to scout Plooma out. If I had a more detailed sensor sweep I might be able to piece something together."

"I think I can provide that," Wedge said, rubbing his chin. "Last I checked the Wraiths were nearby. I'm going to put in a call to Face Loran and see if he can bring one of his new toys by."

Hobbie looked up from his datapad. "You're bringing the Wraiths in? Oh Force. It's gotten worse."

"I'm not bringing all of them in," Wedge replied. "Just enough to do a little bit of grunt work for us. Anything else you need to bring to our attention, Tycho?"

The Alderaanian shook his head. "That's it. I merely wanted to get us all here to lay out what we're looking at. Keep your eyes peeled, everyone."

* * *

><p>After another long day examining and studying the data in Plooma's vast historical archives, Luke had extended an invitation to Fiolla to have dinner with him and Corran. The young historian had nearly jumped out of her skin, finally managing to squeak out, "Yes, of course!," in reply. The group had made plans to meet at the hotel's cantina at 1900 hours.<p>

For some reason, Luke had asked Corran to forego his Jedi robes and wear civilian clothes to dinner—something about wanting to show Fiolla that the Jedi were normal people. Corran had begrudgingly agreed, fondly remembering all those free drinks he had received his first night on Plooma. Not that it mattered, he realized; he somehow got the feeling that Luke wouldn't let them use their Jedi status to their advantage and accept free drinks.

When they had arrived at the cantina, Corran had noticed that Fiolla looked somewhat disappointed with their appearance, but her disappointment quickly disappeared and she soon began badgering Luke with questions about what it was like to be a Jedi and how he helped defeat the Empire and what his plans were for the future of the Jedi Order. Luke fielded her questions with true Jedi Master patience, although Corran could sense that Fiolla's unabashed admiration was once again starting to bother him.

Eventually Fiolla had turned her attention to Corran, asking about his past in CorSec and Rogue Squadron and how he had come to be a Jedi Knight. Of course she had already memorized the entire story, but Corran still answered her questions with the theatrics of a holostar.

Now Fiolla's good cheer began to slowly disappear, and she played with the straw in her drink while she avoided Corran's eyes. "I apologize, Jedi Horn…I hope that I am not being presumptuous, but I must ask."

Corran motioned for her to continue. "Go ahead, Fiolla."

"I was wondering…you are obviously a very powerful Jedi. Why are you not teaching at Master Skywalker's praxeum, or serving his order on a permanent basis? Surely the galaxy needs more Jedi Knights than pilots?"

Corran grinned and leaned back in his chair. "You'd think that, but you've obviously never seen me fly."

Fiolla tilted her head. "I'm sorry, I do not understand."

Luke rolled his eyes. "What Corran means, is that right now he can best fight the Empire by continuing to fly starfighters. After discussing the issue with him, I came to the same conclusion. Not every pilot has the skills to serve in Rogue Squadron, and I think it would be a huge disservice if Corran were to resign his commission before the war with the Empire has been won."

"But, Master Skywalker, didn't you resign _your_ commission as a general so that you could be a Jedi?"

"Fiolla, how many times do I have to tell you, just call me Luke," he smiled, causing the young woman to brush profusely. "But you are right, I did resign my commission. I felt it was my duty to travel the galaxy and try to find information about the Jedi so that I could one day start to rebuild the Jedi Order. Eventually I met more Force sensitives and decided to start the Academy. I wouldn't have been able to do that while serving in the military."

"I guess I understand," Fiolla nodded. "Your wife was one of the first Force sensitive people you trained, was she not?"

Luke's eyes widened in shock. _"What?"_

"Mara Jade, your companion? You trained her, did you not?"

Corran grinned and kicked Luke under the table. "Oh!" the Jedi Master exclaimed. "Yes. My wife. Yes, Mara was one of the first people I met who was very strong in the Force. It was actually my time with her that gave me the courage to start training others."

"But, Master Skywalker—I mean, Luke. From what I've read, it seems that she has never completed her Jedi training. Does she fight in your military as well?"

Luke ran his hand over his face, suppressing a grimace. Corran raised a brow. _How are you going to pull off this one, Master?_

Luke narrowed his eyes, then turned back to the historian. "Well, Fiolla, that's a very good question. Unfortunately Mara does not yet feel comfortable being a Jedi. Hopefully, someday soon she will, but until that time comes I cannot make her learn the ways of the Force."

Again Fiolla looked down, a solemn look crossing her face. "But, I still do not understand, Master Sky—Luke. I mean no offense to her, but if I were strong in the Force, there is nothing in the galaxy that would give me more fulfillment than to serve as a Jedi Knight. When I was a child, I would have dreams of being a Jedi. And yet, your own companion does not want such an honor."

For a moment, Luke also looked down at his hands. He managed to keep his eyes blank, but Corran knew exactly what he was thinking. Luke had quoted Fiolla's same argument to Mara probably fifty times over the past nine years, and now he was forced to defend his old friend's aversion to being a Jedi. Corran wondered if putting himself in Mara's mindset was helping Luke to better understand her feelings, or if it was instead making him feel more adamant that Mara should complete her training.

After a few moments, Luke sighed. "I know it is difficult for you to understand, Fiolla, but there are many other ways to serve the galaxy that are just as admirable. For example, my sister served as Chief of State for several years. Many of my best friends serve with Corran in Rogue Squadron. They are all heroes, and they have done amazing things without using the Force. You, Fiolla, have done amazing things with your archives. I have been searching the galaxy for years, trying to find just a fraction of the information you have been keeping safe. You may not be a Jedi, but I can assure you that your contributions to the Jedi Order are priceless."

Once again, poor Fiolla looked like she might faint. "You really mean this to be true?"

Luke nodded. "I certainly do. And if you want proof, I can introduce you to Tionne, our Jedi historian—she will certainly be in your debt for all of your information."

Fiolla bowed her head slightly, a red tinge creeping onto her cheeks. "Thank you. That means more to me that you will ever know."

Luke reached across the table to take Fiolla's hand. "Just remember what I said, Fiolla—one needn't be a Jedi to do great things."

She smiled at him, and they then proceeded with their meal, talking and laughing and exchanging stories about the New Republic and Plooma. As they were nearing the end of dinner, Corran noticed that Mara and Karrde were sitting at the bar, talking animatedly about something—probably business of some sort.

When they had finished, Luke paid for dinner (after letting Corran know in no uncertain terms that he was springing for the next dinner out) and the trio stopped to say hello to the two smugglers before leaving the cantina. Luke, still playing the role of dutiful husband, gave Mara a tender hug and kiss on the cheek. Mara bristled slightly but, ever the spy she returned the kiss, even though her discomfort was clearly radiating through the Force.

Fiolla stepped forward and extended her hand. "Mara Jade, I thank you for allowing me to have dinner with your companion. It was very enjoyable." She bowed her head. "And I commend you for your service to the New Republic."

Mara gave the historian an odd look, but accepted the handshake. "No problem," she drawled, narrowing her eyes. After Fiolla turned away, Mara grabbed Luke and hissed something in his ear. He merely shrugged in reply before giving her another kiss.

"Don't stay out too late, love," he told her.

"Yeah, whatever," Mara retorted.

Luke then met the older man's eyes. "Take good care of her for me, Karrde."

The smuggler gave a mock bow. "Will do, Luke."

Mara rolled her eyes into the back of her head and downed a large gulp of her drink. Corran said his good-byes, then followed Luke and Fiolla out of the cantina. "What was that about?" he whispered to his former master. "She didn't want you to leave without getting another good-bye kiss?"

"Shove it, Corran."

The Corellian chuckled. "You know, it's too bad she wasn't around to hear you defend her decision about not being a Jedi. She might have actually kissed you voluntarily!"

Corran was answered with a hard smack on the shoulder.

* * *

><p>Karrde and Mara took their time finishing their drinks, staying downstairs long after Luke and Corran had left the restaurant. Karrde suspected that Mara wanted to remain out late so she wouldn't have to deal with Luke back in their room. As such, it was nearing midnight when Karrde finally escorted Mara upstairs, and he expected Luke to already be asleep.<p>

But, instead of an empty living area, they were greeted with a nearly naked Jedi Master, sitting cross-legged on the floor and apparently deep in meditation.

Karrde stood in the doorway, hand to mouth, doing his best to stifle his laughter. The sight in front of him would have been humorous enough in and of itself, but the fact that Mara Jade was standing at his side made it all the more amusing. Karrde glanced at Mara out of the corner of his eye, noticing that she alternated between both staring at Luke in complete awe and glaring at him in pure outrage.

The Jedi Master seemed to not notice their arrival, leaving them standing still in the entrance for several long moments.

It wasn't until Mara began screaming that Luke made any inclination of recognizing their presences. Apparently, outrage had won this round.

The first few phrases out of her mouth Karrde recognized as Bocce. Then came some choice words in Huttese, Corellian, and even some Alderaanian curses (Karrde wasn't sure of their meanings but they would have sounded strangely beautiful had Mara not been yelling at the top of her lungs and reaching for the two weapons on her belt). In one swift movement Luke leaped from a sitting position, holding his hand out in a defensive stance even though he was unarmed. Sighing heavily, he relaxed as he realized the intruders were his friends and there was no danger present.

But Luke visibly tensed again as Mara continued swearing in various languages and crossed the threshold in three quick steps, coming to rest mere centimeters in front of him and poking him violently in the chest.

"Why," she asked through gritted teeth, still poking him, "must you do this in the living area?"

Luke took several steps back and shrugged innocently. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because we have separate bedrooms for a reason! I hate coming in here at night and having to play witness to your Jedi playtime!"

"Alright, alright," Luke soothed. "I don't want to cause you any discomfort. I'll take my meditation into my bedroom from now on."

"Good." Before he could leave, Mara reached out and held him firmly in place. "Speaking of my discomfort, could you, you know…" She waved her hand, indicating his undressed state.

Luke cocked his head. "Could I what?"

Mara sighed, now pointing directly at his shorts. "You know…"

Luke gestured for her to continue, feigning ignorance. Karrde followed their exchange and smiled inwardly, thinking just how skilled Luke was at playing naive. He truly was a master.

After several long, awkward moments, it became obvious that Mara was going to have to spell out her frustrations. And she did, in a scream that once again threatened to tear laughter from Karrde's stomach:

_"Why are you __**always **__in your underwear?"_

Luke grinned in return and teased, "Why aren't _you_?"

Mara threw up her arms in disgust and pushed Luke away from her, causing him to stumble backwards into the caf table. "Because I'm a civilized human being!" she growled. "We wear clothes around those we're not married to!" Luke opened his mouth to protest; realizing her mistake, she spun around and jammed her finger in his face in warning. "If you want to keep the part of your anatomy that your _real_ wife will want to use someday, then don't. Even. Say it."

Raising a hand to calm her down, Luke slowly closed the distance between them. "Listen, Mara, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything like that," he explained. "I swear, okay? It's just that I grew up on Tatooine, you know—twin suns? It was hot all the time so at night I wore shorts. Now I can't sleep in anything else."

"Well, last I checked Plooma only had _one_ sun, and there are cooling units inside, _idiot_," Mara spat. "Wear more clothes from now on, okay?"

Luke nodded in acquiescence. "As you wish, my dear."

Again Mara threw up her hands and began a tirade of multilingual curses. Even through her outrage, Karrde could see that Mara's cheeks were still tinted red in embarrassment. He made a mental note to thank the Jedi Master for putting thoughts of himself in various states of undress into Mara's mind. Whether his actions were intentional or innocent, it didn't matter—the outcome would be the same, one that would benefit Karrde immensely.

Still holding in his laughter, Karrde lifted a hand in farewell. "I'll just leave you two lovebirds alone," he announced, closing the door behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

"Can you tell us again why we have to wear these?" Hobbie asked as he smoothed out the wrinkles on his dress uniform. "I was really hoping I'd be able to wear civilian clothes."

"Don't complain," Corran told him. "Would you rather wear formalwear fashioned in bright fuchsia?"

Hobbie paused. "You have a point."

"Come on, the uniform isn't that bad," Luke commented, admiring his reflection in the mirror. "And Wedge was right—they _do_ make an impact."

"You're just saying that because you never had to wear one," Hobbie pointed out. "Speaking of which, how'd you get your hands on a spare dress uniform?"

"I borrowed Wedge's," Luke replied. "We're about the same size."

"Lucky you," Hobbie muttered, frowning at himself in the mirror. Luke was right; the uniforms _did_ make a good impression, but by the gods was he starting to get sick of wearing it. "So anyway, we're wearing these _why_?"

"Besides the fact that Wedge gave me authority to boss you around for two weeks?" Luke grinned. "No, the fact of the matter is that I want the Ploomians to remember our military backgrounds. And Wedge pointed out that the dress uniforms would remind them of the strength of the New Republic military."

"I'll have to remember to thank him," Hobbie drawled.

"Plus, he wants to look hot for his wife," Corran chimed in.

Hobbie groaned.

"I still say you should have made Mara wear one of these uniforms. I bet she'd look quite fetching in one, don't you agree?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "You know I'm going to make sure that Wedge gives you tons of kitchen duty when you get back to the Rogues, right?"

Corran grinned. "Eh. It's worth it."

Making himself comfortable, Hobbie tried his best to ignore the other pilots' bickering. The New Republic delegation had been on Plooma for seven days and, to mark the halfway point of their mission, they had been invited to a gala being held in their honor. Corran had spent the past twenty-four hours concocting various schemes to increase the awkward sexual tension between Luke and Mara to new heights. As he had remarked, a ball was a great place for hook-ups.

Continuing _his_ quest to get either maimed or kriffed by the end of the two weeks, Luke had sent Mara out, with Jedi academy funds no less, on a shopping spree to buy a new outfit for the event. Luke had even dared to inform her that she needn't worry about carrying her lightsaber; all she was required to bring for the evening was her stunning and entertaining presence.

Sometimes Hobbie wondered if Luke was trying to orchestrate a coup and take over leadership of the cybernetic limb club.

Luke had come to their hotel room to get ready earlier in the evening, which had prompted even more teasing from Corran. ("Admit it, Luke," he had said, "you want to get ready in private so she can get the full effect all at once and be blown away! Don't be embarrassed; we've all done it before.") Hobbie didn't understand why it was taking them so long to get ready. Perhaps it was just another way of the Galaxy getting back at him.

The two Jedi's conversation was interrupted by a rather loud and forceful knock. A second later an annoyed voice pierced through the door. "Aren't you slowpokes ready yet? Karrde and I have been waiting out here for ten minutes!" It was the type of role reversal that only Mara Jade could pull off. Sighing, he opened the door for the two smugglers.

"Hey, Klivian," Mara said. "Looking good as usual."

"You too," Hobbie replied. She did look very nice, he thought; she was wearing a long black dress with straps that tied behind her neck, and her dancer's figure made the simple garment look highly elegant.

"Well, when the husband sends you on a shopping spree you can't disappoint, right?" Mara said drily. At that moment, Luke and Corran came into view. Mara's eyes widened as she took in Luke in his borrowed dress uniform; she openly traced the contours of his body, seemingly unable to speak.

"Oh fantastic," Hobbie muttered to himself. "Just what we needed—more ammunition for Horn."

* * *

><p>Corran, of course, took in Mara's reaction with glee. "Well, this is a first," he whispered in her ear after the group had exchanged greetings. "Speechless?"<p>

That comment brought Mara back to life. "Oh, shove it," she growled.

Corran grinned and moved aside as Luke stepped forward to kiss Mara's hand. "You look beautiful, Mara," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. You clean up nice, too, I guess," she admitted begrudgingly, fingering the gold insignia on his white jacket. "Nice touch on the uniform."

Luke nodded. "I thought so, too. Shall we?"

They left the room, and Corran mentally rubbed his palms while they waited for the turbolift. The night had barely started and it was already promising to be the most entertaining evening on Plooma by far. He suppressed a grin as he noticed Luke staring at Mara, seemingly fixated. _Hey, Luke, _he sent through the Force.

Luke didn't respond, but Corran could tell he was listening. _Close your mouth. You're practically drooling._

Luke glanced at him sharply; Corran shrugged innocently in return. _Just trying to help out._ The other man narrowed his eyes and sighed.

_Oh yes,_ Corran thought. It was shaping up to be a very fun evening indeed.

* * *

><p>Once the delegation had arrived at the gala, they were announced to a rather large and enthusiastic crowd. The group then immediately parted ways, eager for an evening free of politics.<p>

However, Corran soon found himself speaking with Ambassador Gemar, and couldn't help but ask a few choice questions about Plooma's recent history, including Valara Lissiri's veiled dislike of the Jedi.

"Unfortunately, Ploomian Security stands to lose a lot of prestige from an alliance with the New Republic," Gemar explained. "As Director, Lissiri holds a vast amount of power in Plooma's government. Because we do not have a standing military, she basically amounts to our Commander in Chief. If Plooma were to join the New Republic, any military presence here would officially outrank her."

Corran shook his head. "The New Republic does not operate that way. We wouldn't force any planetary government to give up its sovereignty."

"We know that," Gemar agreed, "but Ploomian Security still fears a takeover. I do not believe that those fears will go away quickly. After all, that was one of the main reasons why Plooma separated itself from the Old Republic in the first place."

That was certainly new information. The delegation had of course learned that Plooma's leaders had grown wary of the discord in the Old Republic around the outbreak of the Clone Wars, but Corran hadn't thought there was more to the story. Apparently, there was. "PloSec was behind Plooma's secession from the Old Republic?"

"Not entirely," Gemar responded, "but they certainly pushed the issue. Of course, at the time it was hard to argue. War was imminent and with the debate in the Senate about the creation of an army, it was clear that in order to save ourselves from the impending conflict, we had to break away. Of course, Ploomian Security argued that since they were the only force on planet that could defend against an attack, the organization should be given more authority, not to mention more funds."

"That makes perfect sense," Corran said. "They used the situation at large to gain a very favorable position on planet. Now they fear a return to a galactic government will take away their power. It's no wonder that Director Lissiri opposed joining the New Republic."

"Well, that is the interesting thing, Jedi Horn," Gemar replied. "Director Lissiri was the person to first make contact with your Republic."

Corran stared blankly at the ambassador. "Excuse me, could you say that again?"

"Director Lissiri encouraged Plooma's government to reach out to your government. After receiving split approval, she contacted your Senate. She was the biggest proponent for these negotiations, even against those who argued that joining the New Republic would incur the wrath of the Imperial Remnant."

None of that made sense, Corran thought. Lissiri had been openly hostile to the entire delegation, both during their tours of the mining operations and during official negotiations. It didn't take the Force to realize that the PloSec director was not pleased with the idea of returning to the New Republic, yet Gemar was saying exactly the opposite.

"I cannot understand it either," Gemar said, picking up on Corran's confusion. "Before your delegation arrived, Director Lissiri seemed very pleased that the negotiations were to be taking place. Obviously, that has changed."

"That _is_ odd," Corran agreed. "However, I seem to recall Director Lissiri being rather unhappy when we first arrived here. Did her attitude change before then?"

"Yes," Gemar confirmed. "Her animosity seemed to start when we received the official list of participants from the New Republic."

"Really? Because there were Jedi involved?" Corran asked, forcing himself to remain calm even though unfounded prejudice against the Jedi was one of his major irritations.

"I am not certain," Gemar answered. "Director Lissiri certainly has never shown any outward animosity towards the Jedi Knights before you arrived."

"But she certainly displayed so the other day…" Corran trailed off, reaching out with the Force for guidance. There was something just barely out of reach, a tiny thread of possibility that would explain Lissiri's actions at the negotiations. Corran shook his head, forcing himself not to dwell on the issue. The Force would guide him to the answer, he just needed to quiet his mind and let it.

As he finished his thought, Ambassador Gemar excused himself. Corran looked around the ballroom for his fellow delegates. Hobbie was standing by the food table, talking to Fiolla of all people. Lissiri was conversing with some unknown Ploomians, her assistant Murray standing diligently at her side, looking positively morose. Corran was tempted to talk to Lissiri and see if he could gain any insight into her motivations.

Before he could take a step, however, his attention was stolen away by a spike of anger through the Force. Grinning, he turned around until he found what he was looking for: Luke and Mara, standing to the side of the dance floor, seemingly in the middle of an argument. They had been dancing peacefully only minutes ago, perfectly playing the part of the loving couple. But apparently Luke had once again pushed one too many buttons. Shaking her head at Luke, Mara threw up her hands in exasperation and sped out of the ballroom. After a few moments, Luke followed her into the hallway.

As any self-respecting former CorSec officer would do, Corran followed them—before making a quick detour, of course.

* * *

><p>Hobbie looked down at his plate stuffed full of Ploomian delicacies. It seemed to him that the Ploomians used that word rather liberally. The appetizer portions of small game animals did not appeal to Hobbie in the least. Some of them even looked like they were still alive.<p>

He wrinkled his nose and put down his plate, exchanging it for a glass of what he'd found to be a rather potent Ploomian beverage.

The Rogue had been doing his best to stay out of trouble in the ballroom since they'd arrived, and the best way he knew to do that was to stay out of everyone's way. If nobody talked to him, he couldn't get shot at. At least, that was the logic he was subscribing to for the evening.

"Major Klivian?"

Apparently, the Galaxy did not have the same plans.

Hobbie turned around and found himself face to face with Fiolla Flotto, the hyperactive, overeager Jedi historian. At first, all Hobbie could wonder was why she was deigning to speak with him. Since he'd arrived on Plooma, he'd been subjected to less-than-stellar treatment whenever anyone found out he wasn't a Jedi. He suspected that the only reason they gave him a nice hotel room was because he was sharing with Corran. Fiolla seemed to revere the Jedi most of all. Surely she could find someone more interesting to speak with, such as Luke or Corran or even Mara.

But Fiolla was smiling openly at him, looking just as eager to talk to him as she'd been to talk to the Jedi. "Hello!" she chirped.

"Good evening," Hobbie found himself responding. He frowned at himself. He was never that formal; what was that about?

"Are you busy, Major Klivian? I can return later if I am interrupting your meal!"

Hobbie glanced down at the unappetizing dishes on his plate. "Um, no, not at all. How may I help you?"

Fiolla's smile grew wider, and Hobbie began to feel bad for everything disparaging he'd thought of her throughout the trip. Yes, she was excitable, but she was a genuinely nice person, and highly optimistic. Almost like a young, female, and caffeinated Luke Skywalker.

"I was hoping to speak with you about your history with the New Republic."

"Oh," Hobbie shrugged. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"Master Skywalker stated that you have been in the military for many years. I was hoping you could tell me about your adventures!"

Hobbie cocked his head. _His_ adventures? Not his adventures with his Jedi friends? Now he really did feel badly.

"Sure, Fiolla, no problem," he said, gracing the woman with a rare smile. "As Luke said, I attended the Imperial academy. Eventually several cadets and I decided we wanted to defect to the Rebel Alliance. We did so right before the Battle of Yavin…"

Hobbie launched into the story, letting himself revel in the attention that he hadn't received since arriving on Plooma. Fiolla followed his story with vigor, seemingly very impressed that Luke Skywalker himself had hand-picked Hobbie to fly in his first squadron. He was just beginning to regale her with the story of the Battle of Endor when a rather excited Corran Horn interrupted their conversation.

"Hobbie!" He pulled on his arm. "Come on, we're missing it!"

"What do you want, Horn? Can't you see I'm busy?" Hobbie said, indicating Fiolla.

The other woman grinned. "Hello, Jedi Horn! You are here just in time to hear Major Klivian's tale of the destruction of the second Death Star!"

"Hi Fiolla, that sounds great, but I'm afraid I need to borrow Hobbs for a second."

"Oh." Fiolla's face fell for a moment. Her toe twisted awkwardly into the floor as she examined her feet. "Of course, I understand. You of course would like him back. Anyway, thank you for speaking with me, Major Klivian." She bowed formally and turned to leave.

"Fiolla, wait—"

"Come _on_ Hobbs!"

Hobbie sighed and begrudgingly allowed Corran to drag him into the hallway. "This had better be good, Corran. For once I was actually having a pleasant conversation with somebody on this Force-forsaken planet."

Corran waved his hand. "Oh, it was just Fiolla. You'll have a chance to talk with her later. But this—"

He pointed towards Mara, who was standing across the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest, and Luke, who was approaching her from behind.

"—_This _is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, my friend!"

"I don't know, it seems like we've had plenty of opportunities to witness them fighting over the past week, more than I ever needed to see in my lifetime," Hobbie pointed out.

"Trust me, this one's gonna be a doozy. I can tell through the Force!"

As the two pilots hid behind some large planters, Hobbie shook his head. "I'm sure Luke'll be glad to know that you're putting his Jedi training to good use."

Corran waved his hand, indicating for Hobbie to be quiet, as Luke placed a hand on Mara's shoulder and began speaking quietly.

"Mara, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She flinched away from him, remaining mute in her apparent anger.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked, his voice full of concern.

"I told you, I'm fine, now just leave me alone," Mara replied, sounding testy and not at all fine.

But Luke was Luke, and he would never leave a friend alone when they were upset. Even if he was the cause of those feelings. "Let me make it up to you. Can I get you another drink? Some water, perhaps? Are you hungry?"

"I said I'm _fine_."

"Anything you want, just name it—"

"_Dammit_, Skywalker! What I want is for you to stop taking this marriage thing so damn seriously!" she snapped. She began pacing up and down the hallway as if trying to determine whether to stay and argue or go back into the ballroom. "Ugh, forget it," she finally sighed, heading towards the Rogues' hiding space, prompting them to back further into the shadows.

But before Mara could get very far, she swung around and got right back into Luke's face. "Why won't you ever just leave me the hell alone about my Jedi training?" she demanded.

Corran rubbed his palms together in anticipation. "Oh, yes! Here we go!" he whispered.

Hobbie grimaced. "Maybe we should head back inside—"

"No way, Hobbs! This is what we came here for! Now shhh!" Corran said, all too excited about watching Luke and Mara explode at each other. Hobbie shook his head. Corran's excitement be damned; this was _not _going to be good.

Luke had paused, startled by her abrupt change of subject. "What?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Since the day you met me you haven't stopped bothering me about becoming a Jedi. Even after not speaking to you for months, it always comes up in the conversation somehow. Why? Why do you care so much?"

"I...I just think you're wasting your potential, that's all," Luke stammered.

"Oh, what, my life isn't good enough for you?"

Hobbie grimaced again. "Corran, I really think—"

"Shhh!" Corran hushed him. "This is getting good."

Hobbie pretended to bang his head against the wall.

"That's not what I said—" Luke protested.

"No, but it's what you meant, isn't it! You know, Skywalker, you can be pretty high and mighty for someone who owes his life to smugglers several times over!"

Now Luke was starting to shout as well. "Yeah, I do, and I _never_ said that you were wasting your life! I said you were wasting your _potential_."

"I fail to see the difference."

"Well isn't that a surprise," Luke muttered.

Mara's voice was beginning to grow shrill. "Just who do you think—"

"Look around you, Mara! Fiolla would want nothing more than to serve the galaxy as a Jedi, yet she can't touch the Force. And you have so much power but you're running away from what you're so obviously meant to be! Why?"

"I think I can decide my own destiny good enough, okay? And maybe the Jedi don't deserve this kind of treatment. What happened the last time a Jedi thought he was so powerful and important, do you remember _that, _huh?"

"What's she talking about?" Hobbie whispered, unable to resist getting involved in the argument.

Corran met Hobbie's gaze, suddenly serious. "Byss."

"Oh."

Luke shook his head, ignoring Mara's accusation. "Why are you so scared?" he asked instead.

Mara's green eyes flashed in offense. "I'm not scared!" she countered indignantly.

Hobbie was sucked in again. "What's she scared of?"

"Of committing herself to the Jedi Order," Corran whispered back. "Be quiet!"

Hobbie obliged.

"Really?" Luke challenged, hands on his hips.

"Yes!" Mara cried. "Did you ever think that maybe I just don't _want_ to be a Jedi? I have a good life, you know! I have my own business, my own ship, friends and colleagues who respect me. I have _freedom! _Do you know what that's like, after spending the entire first half of my life serving a man who controlled me implicitly?"

There was a pause. "So _that's_ what this is about," Luke said knowingly.

Mara shook her head. "You just _now_ figured that out?" She gave a mock round of applause. "I guess they don't teach common sense in Jedi school, do they?"

Again Luke sidestepped her barb. "Becoming a Jedi doesn't mean you have to give up your freedom, Mara. Look at Corran."

Beside Hobbie, Corran looked smug. Hobbie once again banged his head against the wall.

"Yeah, but he was already serving the New Republic," Mara countered. "I'm not. And maybe I don't want to be."

"No, I guess you wouldn't. You don't want to serve anyone but yourself."

"Yeah, so, maybe I deserve it," Mara shot back.

"Maybe you do," Luke acquiesced.

"And maybe I don't need you to tell me how I should run my life."

"No, maybe you don't."

"Maybe instead you should concern yourself with how _you_ are running _your _life, and your little Jedi Academy," Mara said bitterly.

Surprisingly, Luke didn't seem angry about Mara's accusation. Instead, he nodded slowly, seemingly taking her suggestion to heart. "Maybe I should."

"Good."

"And don't worry, I won't mention Jedi training to you ever again."

"Good." Mara spun on her heel and headed back towards the ballroom. Corran and Hobbie ducked further out of sight, and Mara passed by without noticing them. Luke paced around the hallway for a few more moments before following her back into the ballroom, but headed towards the opposite side of the dance floor from where Mara was speaking with Karrde.

"Well, that _was _interesting," Hobbie conceded. He glanced at Corran, but his friend didn't seem as excited about the fight as Hobbie expected he'd be. "Corran?" he asked.

"Did you see her?" Corran replied, gobsmacked.

"No, why?"

"She was crying."

"Oh." Hobbie tried to get his mind around that fact. Mara Jade didn't cry.

* * *

><p>Mara sidled up to Karrde, doing her best to politely sip her drink even though she obviously wanted to down several glasses. He glanced at her, trying not to stare at her eyes, which were puffy and red.<p>

"You might want to head to the fresher," he advised in gentle tones.

She chuckled. "Oh, yeah—my allergies are bothering me," she lied.

"You don't have allergies," Karrde pointed out.

"Maybe I'm allergic to Skywalker," she joked. Karrde knew that she was somewhat serious in her comment, but she smiled, so he didn't press her.

They stood in silence for a few moments, watching the couples on the dance floor. "You should get back to Luke," he said finally. "People are going to start to wonder."

"I know," she sighed. "I just needed a minute to calm down."

"You alright?" Karrde asked.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Just...this trip is giving me a lot to think about."

"Oh?"

It was a moment before she responded. "Do you think I'm wasting my potential?"

"About?" he questioned.

"With the Force."

"Ah. Well, I'm obliged to give you the answer that would make you want to come back to work for me for the longest period of time."

"Very funny, Talon. I'm serious."

Karrde thought for a moment. Mara had always had something special, and for as long as he'd known her, she seemed more than just an average smuggler. And he was telling the truth—he wanted nothing more than for her to work for him forever—but he cared for her, and knew that she could do more. Knew that she deserved more. "You want my honest opinion?"

"Always."

"Then yes," he said. "You're wasting your potential and have been for a long time."

Mara sighed.

"Somehow I doubt my opinion is going to change your mind on the matter," Karrde said.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I guess...I guess I just don't like what he's been doing," she admitted softly.

Karrde raised a brow. "Have you told him so?"

Mara shook her head. "I can't talk to him about this."

"Suit yourself," Karrde said. "But if you want to remain friends, sooner or later you're going to have to be honest with him."

"Sometimes I wonder if we even are," she whispered absently. After a moment, she handed Karrde her glass and began to cross the ballroom towards Luke.

"Mara?" Karrde called after her.

She stopped and gave him a questioning look.

"The reason he doesn't stop hounding you is because he cares."

Mara glanced over at Skywalker before turning back to Karrde. "I highly doubt that," she scoffed.

"Then you're a fool and my opinions about you have been very wrong." Karrde's tone was joking, but he held her gaze, making it clear that he was very serious.

Mara nodded, then turned around and resumed the long walk across the ballroom.

* * *

><p>Corran approached Karrde just as Mara reached the other side of the ballroom. "Is she okay?" he asked.<p>

Karrde nodded. "Yeah, she'll be fine."

"Good," Corran said. "Not that I'd ever mention her delicate mood to her face."

"Not if you want to live to see another day," Karrde joked.

The two men watched the ballroom for awhile, idly chatting. When the music changed, turning to a fast song, Mara grabbed Luke's hand and pulled him out onto the dance floor. He protested, but they were soon in the middle of the floor, Mara dancing like she'd been all her life, and Luke looking positively embarrassed. Corran couldn't hold his laughter. "Oh, I _really_ hope that someone is taping this!"

Karrde laughed, too. "I'm sure there's surveillance in this room. I'll be sure to get my hands on it."

"I knew I liked you for a reason, Karrde."

As the song went on, Luke grew more and more relaxed, and the two were soon laughing as if they hadn't had a huge argument just minutes ago. Luke spun Mara around expertly and even lifted her up in the air a few times. They looked like two teenagers in love, Corran couldn't help but think. He quickly covered up his thoughts, not wanting to have Luke or Mara catch a glimpse of them and threaten to kill him.

Hobbie approached them as another fast song began playing. "I guess they made up?" he asked, pointing to Luke and Mara.

"Looks like it," Corran answered, grinning. The two were still laughing, and Mara had her arms draped around Luke's shoulders as he spun her around some more. As he set her down, they began swaying back and forth, and from Corran's angle it almost looked as if Luke were leaning down to kiss her...

And then Fiolla walked in front of them, blocking his view. "Hello!" she said perkily.

Corran squeaked in frustration. The others gave him odd looks. He cleared his throat, trying to cover up his reaction. "Oh, hello, Fiolla," he replied in a deep voice, trying to nonchalantly push her out of the way, but it was to no avail.

"Hello, Jedi Horn!" she repeated. "I'm sorry to interrupt! But I was hoping that I could borrow Major Klivian so that we could continue our previous conversation on the dance floor, if you do not mind?"

Corran threw the other pilot a confused look. _Borrow_ Hobbie? That was odd...but then again, this was Fiolla talking. Shaking his head, he shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Fiolla turned to Hobbie. "Will you accompany me, Major Klivian?" she asked, beaming from ear to ear.

"Sure, that sounds great," Hobbie replied.

"Oh, may the gods bless the stars!" Fiolla exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She reached forward and grabbed Hobbie's arm. "Let us dance!" She quickly pulled Hobbie onto the dance floor and began moving her hands rapidly above her head in some sort of odd Ploomian dance. Hobbie did his best to imitate her, his frantic movements a stark contrast to his permanently dour expression.

Corran burst out laughing at them, but quickly sobered as he began scanning the dance floor for the missing couple. "Dammit!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Karrde asked.

"Luke and Mara are gone! Did you see where they went?"

"No, they must have left while Fiolla was blocking the way."

Corran sighed, disappointed that he had possibly missed the culmination of nine years of sexual tension... "Do you think they went back to their room?"

"Possibly," Karrde said. He glanced at his chrono. "It is rather late, and the ball will be ending shortly."

"I know, but we said we'd walk back to our quarters together, you know, safety in numbers—"

"Horn?" Karrde interjected.

"Yeah?"

"I can see the wheels turning in your head. Whatever you're thinking, stop. Leave the two of them alone."

Corran practically stomped his foot. This was what they had all been waiting for! "Oh, you are no fun."

"Maybe not, but I would like to keep my body intact, and interrupting Luke and Mara right now would be a very good way to sever my limbs."

"A-ha! So you _do_think they're getting down and dirty right now!"

Karrde shook his head. "I didn't say that, and I would never dare to speculate, because that would be another good way of separating my limbs from my body."

"See? No fun at all."

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile, at the Rogue Squadron safehouse:<em>

It was past midnight when Wedge was roused out of his bed by roaring laughter. He stumbled into the makeshift suveillance room where Tycho, Wes, Inyri, and Gavin—all the Rogues not on patrol at the moment—were watching footage of the ball taking place in the capital city. "What the hell is going on?" he growled from the doorway.

Inyri turned around and smirked. "Revenge, boss!"

"What?" Wedge walked over to the station around which the others were crowded. On the holo footage, Luke and Mara stood in the entrance to the ballroom. They were laughing at Corran, who was standing on the other side of the ballroom with Karrde and looking very agitated.

"Luke and Mara are getting revenge on Corran for spying on them and being a gossip queen," Wes explained. "From what we can tell, he thinks that they just ran off to do the horizontal Ewok shuffle and is dying because Karrde won't let him go spy on them."

Wedge shook his head. "Way to go, Luke and Mara! Serves Corran right."

"Boss, you're vengeful when you're tired," Gavin pointed out.

"Damn right I am. Now all of you get out of here, I need sleep and don't need you all yawning while you're on patrol tomorrow."

Everyone groaned in protest but left the room anyway. Making sure they were all gone, Wedge took a seat at the main surveillance station, flipping the controls to show him a view of the hallway. He watched Luke and Mara walk towards the turbolift, then wait there, conversing quietly, their arms swinging back and forth, gently brushing each other's hands every so often. The two of them looked at each other for a long moment...then the turbolift arrived and they disappeared inside. Wedge quickly jabbed at a switch, but apparently there wasn't a camera inside the turbolift. "Blast!" he cursed.

"Something the matter, boss?" Tycho asked knowingly from the doorway.

Wedge glanced over his shoulder, trying not to look guilty. "Oh, um, I was just...oh, forget it. Horn must be rubbing off on me."

Tycho smiled. "Or maybe you're just a hopeless romantic?"

"That, or I think it's high time Luke stopped being an idiot."

"That's a rather ironic statement coming from you, Wedge."

"You looking for kitchen duty, Colonel?"

"Good night, General."

* * *

><p><em>Later that night:<em>

Corran was woken from a deep sleep by a loud _bang_coming from the direction of Luke and Mara's room. At first he rolled his eyes and pulled the covers over his head, doing his best to sleep through yet another Jade-Skywalker argument, but then Mara's yell pierced through the wall and he grasped his head in pain at a disturbance in the Force. With bad memories of Luke and Mara's argument at the ball, he grabbed his lightsaber, jumped out of bed, and hurried to the their room, thanking every deity known to man that they hadn't thought to lock the door.

As Corran barreled into the living space, he came to a dead stop and his mind tried in vain to comprehend the sight in front of him.

Luke and Mara were sprawled over a large, rectangular flimsiplast sheet which had been painted with bright, multi-colored circles. They were still wearing their formal wear, although both were sporting bare feet and Luke had unbuttoned his jacket. A board painted with identical colors and a listing of different appendages—left foot, right foot, left hand, and right hand—hung in the air next to them. The black arrow on the board spun around in a circle, landing on…

"Right hand, blue!" Luke announced. The two of them began to wriggle around each other, each moving their appropriate limb to the indicated circle.

"Dammit Skywalker, you took my spot!" a very loud and _very _drunk Mara yelled.

"Not my fault you're too slow!" Luke taunted her, his hand firmly in place on Mara's preferred circle. Corran noted that Luke, too, was utterly smashed. Annoyed, Mara took several more seconds to twist into position, ending up with her right arm in between Skywalker's legs and his face directly in her chest.

"Ha! Okay, spin again!" she yelled gleefully.

Luke obliged, narrowing his eyes at the board. "Stop using the Force! Spin like a regular person!" Mara admonished, smacking his thigh dangerously close to his more _delicate_area.

Luke huffed in response but lowered the board to the ground and reached out precariously to spin the arrow. "Left foot, yellow," he groaned, looking around as he tried to find the nearest yellow circle. This time Mara was quicker, slipping her leg behind her body to land in an almost backbend position, her years as a dancer an obvious benefit to this game. After several awkward seconds Luke managed to slip his leg under Mara's back, so he was stretched almost directly underneath her.

As Luke reached out to spin the board again, Corran couldn't take it anymore. "What the _hell_ are you guys doing?" he yelled incredulously, causing the two drunk fools to jump in surprise and fall on top of each other. Apparently alcohol had dampened their ability to sense others approaching them through the Force, Corran thought ruefully.

"What does it look like we're doing?" Mara replied sarcastically, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

"We're playing _Contortion!_" Luke answered. "Duh," he added under his breath, causing Mara to giggle hysterically and Corran to gape at his former master.

"Oh dear Force," he murmured. "You two have finally lost your minds."

"Hey!" Mara hissed, still sprawled on top of Luke. Corran noticed that Luke had crossed his arms behind his head, looking positively smug. "Don't talk about my husband like that. He's a nice guy," she said, patting Luke's chest and grinning at him.

Corran shook his head, still unable to believe what he was seeing. It seemed that all his matchmaking had been pointless; all one needed to do to get Luke and Mara on top of each other was feed them lots of alcohol!

He knew he should leave and let nature take its course, but his curiosity got the best of him. "Just how did you two get so incredibly drunk, and why wasn't I invited to this party?"

"We were bored, so I taught Skywalker the Face Loran drinking game!" Mara said proudly.

"You take a drink every time he makes a vapid facial expression," Luke explained.

"Oh lord," Corran gasped. "You two must have been hammered within thirty minutes."

"I lasted a good hour," Mara said, "but Skywalker was flying within _fifteen_. Poor guy just can't handle his alcohol."

"Hey!" Luke pouted.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Mara told him, tweaking his nose playfully. "And I'll make sure CorSec keeps his mouth shut, too."

The two of them continued to stare stupidly at each other, Mara resting on Skywalker's chest like she belonged there. Corran just stood there gaping at them, unable to move.

"Ahem." Luke finally cleared his throat, looking pointedly at his fellow Jedi and shooing him away. "You have interrupted our game. Please leave us post haste."

"Yeah, post haste!" Mara slurred, throwing the Contortion spinner at Corran's head. He shrieked and ducked out of the way.

"All right, all right!" Corran relented. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," he smirked.

_"We are __**not **__lovebirds!"_they screamed. Corran found himself being Force-pushed out the door, and it locked shut in front of his face. Even still, he couldn't help but laugh when he heard Luke call out "right foot, red!"

"Oh, I have _got_ to tell the others about this," Corran said gleefully to himself, practically skipping back into his room.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

The reconnaissance X-wing was a strange sight, Wedge noted to himself.

The Wraith's new toy was definitely a useful tool, but there was no denying that it wasn't exactly aesthetically pleasing. The nose of the craft had been replaced by a bulky sensor package. While it wasn't exactly normal on the BR series recon X-wings, the laser cannons had been replaced by wide-field holocameras configured for high-speed video capture. Every armament had been removed in favor of some sort of audio or video gathering device. While this starfighter would have been a sitting womprat in a fight, it was perfect for the task at hand.

Standing at the base of the starfighter was a blond woman clad in the typical orange flightsuit of New Republic pilots.

"Taking a break from your Jedi studies?" Wedge asked.

"Well how could I turn down a chance to fly with the Wraiths again?" Tyria Sarkin Tainer asked with a smirk. "Especially when my favorite general in the Galaxy calls in a favor."

"I'll be sure not to tell General Cracken you said that."

"Actually, I'd rather you did."

Another figured emerged from the shuttle parked next to the X-wing. "Oh, please don't," Face Loran said. "Do you have _any_ idea how long it took me to get old man Cracken to agree to buy this bird for us?"

Wedge grinned. "Noted. I do appreciate the two of you coming here on such short notice."

"Don't mention it, I'll just put this little get-together down on your tab," Face replied with a toothy smile. "Now what can your friendly neighborhood Wraiths do for you today?"

"Just some routine flyovers. I've got a half-dozen mining sites we're hoping to get some sensor sweeps and aerial footage from. Get in, do your recon work, get out, go back to whatever it is you were doing before I called you up."

"Sounds simple enough," Tyria said with a shrug. "When should we get under way?"

"As soon as possible," Wedge said. "I'd start your pre-flight up now. Forge and Soldam are already preparing to fly escort."

With a nod, Tyria dismissed herself and climbed into the X-wing to get to work. Wedge turned on his heels and walked back to the safehouse with Face in tow. "What would I do without you Wraiths?" he asked.

"I don't know," Face said, stopping in place and placing his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest a touch. "What _would_ you do without the illustrious Garik 'Face' Loran and his merry band of Wraiths?"

Sighing, Wedge rolled his eyes. "What did I tell you about striking poses?"

"That if I did it again, I'd wake up the following morning with my head shaved."

Wedge merely smiled and continued to walk.

"You were kidding, right?" Face called from behind him. "Right?"

* * *

><p>Inyri Forge flexed her fingers over the flightstick as she glanced at her forward scanner, ensuring for the twelfth time in the last five minutes that the scope was clear of the red blips that marked hostile targets. She was keenly aware of the heightened sense of danger that had been permeating through the squadron over the last several days. Snipers on rooftops, signs of Remnant shuttles. For an assignment that was supposed to be a blue-milk run, it appeared to be turning into something with all of the usual Rogue hallmarks. Command understates the danger, things get murky in a hurry, and now they were all waiting for the proverbial boot to drop.<p>

"Control to recon flight, comm check," Wedge's voice said over the radio, punctuating the silence.

"Recon One, comm check," Inyri dutifully reported back.

"Recon Two, comm check," her wingman, Lieutenant Soldam, responded.

"Recon Three," Tyria Sarkin Tainer followed, "how do I sound?"

Wes responded, "Beautiful alto voice as per usual."

Inyri made a mental note to make him suffer for that comment later. "Permission to begin operations," she asked.

"Granted, snap us up some pretty pictures," Wedge said. "Control out."

Adjusting her flightpath a touch to settle into orbit over Plooma, Inyri began doling out orders. "Two, I want you parked up here next to me. Three, you've got five minutes to get over your six target sites before Ploomian Security gets suspicious. Maybe ten minutes before they scramble whatever it is that they call starfighters on this planet. You've got the green light."

Tyria acknowledged her order and broke off from formation. Looking to her right, Inyri watched as the reconnaissance X-wing darted into the Ploomian atmosphere and made its way towards the surface. Reaching up to the chronometer mounted on the canopy railing, Inyri started a countdown clock. In five minutes she'd order Sarkin to wrap up. In seven she would order her to cease operations and retreat back to orbit. It was absolutely imperative that they not be seen. The last thing any of them needed was for the Ploomian government to think the Rogues were spying on them.

Of course, they _were_ spying. But it was for a good cause.

"Captain, I've got something strange on my scopes," Lieutenant Soldam said.

Three minutes elapsed. "I'm just seeing atmospheric interference," she replied. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"It's intermittent. Seems like some sort of an engine reading, but I can't quite pin it down."

Frowning, Inyri called down to the recon X-Wing. "Three, can you feed us a status report."

The radio crackled a response. "Approaching target site four. So far it's been smooth flying, haven't—" Suddenly the sound of alarms filled the radio. "Sithspit! I've got target lock alarms. Reading three, no four signatures!"

Inyri swore and began powering on her X-wing's weapons systems. "Control are you reading this?"

"We hear you," Wedge responded calmly. "You are weapons free, repeat, weapons free."

"Acknowledged, Control," she responded. "Two, on my wing."

Throwing her flightstick to the right, Inyri broke off orbit and sprinted towards target site four. As soon as she was through the cloud layer, her sensor board lit up, confirming the four targets Tyria had mentioned. In the distance, she could make out the outline of the reconnaissance X-wing, jinking and juking away from a swarm of emerald laser fire. Inyri quickly scanned through her targeting computer and felt her stomach sink, four Imperial TIE Defenders had surrounded the site.

"TIE Defenders?" Soldam asked. "Those can't possibly be a part of Ploomian Security."

"Kill the chatter," Inyri ordered. "We need to break that formation up. Two, bracket high and try to draw their fire, I'm going to sweep in and see what kind of damage I can do."

"Any time now!" Tyria barked. "I'm at half-shields and dropping!"

Giving the order, Inyri cut her altitude and skimmed just above the ground, watching as her wingman peeled off to fly above the TIE formation. Almost on cue, two of the enemy starfighters took the bait, breaking off their attack on Tyria's X-wing to chase after Soldam. Throwing her throttle to full, Inyri shot up and raced towards the remaining two. She set her laser cannon system to dual-link fire, providing a handy combination of power and refresh rate. Somehow, it appeared that the two TIE Defenders hadn't noticed her. A smile crept onto her face while lining up the targeting brackets over one target. Without hesitating, she depressed the trigger.

A wave of scarlet laser fire soared from her X-wing's wingtip cannons and slammed into the TIE Defender's shields. Before long they gave way to bare hull, causing the enemy pilot to veer away from Tyria. Unfortunately for that pilot, Inyri was faster. She feathered the left etheric rudder pedal and pulled back on the stick a touch, realigning the bracket and squeezing off another shot. The red bolts pierced the TIE Defender's aft section, puncturing the twin-ion engine core and setting off a chain reaction that caused the entire ship to burst into a ball of twisted shrapnel and flame.

Circling around, she targeted the second TIE and switched her firing controls over to proton torpedoes. Perhaps it wasn't the most elegant way to deal with a problem as torpedoes were meant for much larger ships, but they were crunched for time. Inyri lined up the brackets once more and waited for the targeting computer to establish a firing solution. After three short tones the computer gave way to a long, piercing buzz signaling a firm lock had been established. She depressed the trigger once more and watched the proton torpedo's blue streak of light race towards the TIE, slamming into the hull and instantly reducing it to debris.

"Recon Three is clear," Tyria said, relief all too present in her voice. "I think I'm going to bug out now if that's okay with you."

"Fine, but you owe me a drink," Inyri replied as she cycled through her targeting computer once more to check up on her wingman. There was one hostile target left on her scope, and it seemed to have a solid read on Soldam. "Everything okay up there?"

"Vaped one, but this TIE's on me good!" Soldam responded. "These sure as hell aren't your typical planetary security pilots!"

"I see him," Inyri said, pulling back on the flightstick for added altitude. "Two, I'm at your aft. Think you can bring your tail around so I can square up a shot?"

"Gladly, Captain."

Once more, she lined up her sights and waited for the perfect chance to pounce. Lieutenant Soldam's X-wing quickly approached, his pursuit not far behind. The moment her wingman passed overhead, Inyri fired off the repulsorlift jets on the nose of her starfighter, throwing her ship onto its back to quickly reverse course. Now the target was right in front of her. She switched back her firing controls to laser cannons and poured on the fire, punching through the shields and winging the top solar array and upsetting the delicate grasp the TIE Defender had over its atmospheric aerodynamics. The enemy starfighter spiraled out of control, slamming into the ground and exploding into countless broken fragments.

"I think that's all of them," Inyri said, heaving a sigh. "Control this is Recon Flight, we're terminating early and coming home."

The sound of static greeted her on the radio.

"Control, this is Recon Flight. Please respond."

Once more, the safehouse failed to acknowledge her hail.

"Uh oh," Soldam muttered.

* * *

><p>"You are weapons free," Wedge said into his headset, "repeat, weapons free."<p>

Rubbing his eyes and doing his best not to heave a sigh of frustration, Wedge brought up an area sensor grid, trying to spot the hostiles Tyria had reported. This was disconcerting; that the recon flight had been jumped this quickly into the operation suggested that something was very wrong. Did the Ploomian government not want them poking around in their mining business? That would be strange, since this entire diplomatic effort centered around just that. They had to have known they would inspect these areas sooner or later.

"TIE Defenders?" Soldam asked over the radio. "Those can't possibly be a part of Ploomian Security."

Wedge's eyes narrowed. He looked over his shoulder at Wes and Tycho, who both were wearing similar perplexed and alarmed expressions. Face leaned over the console to take a look at the sensor readout.

"If Ploomian Security actually owns these starfighters, I will eat my boot," Face muttered. "Just one of those Defenders would bankrupt this entire planet."

"This stinks, Wedge," Wes mused aloud. "First that Lambda class shuttle, now TIE Defenders?"

"Wes is right," Tycho said. "Something's wrong here. We need to get that recon X-wing back so Karrde's people can go over the data."

"Let's get Forge and Soldam some help out there," Wedge said. "I want Pash and Gavin up in the sky now to assist. See if you can—"

The sound of the safehouse's proximity klaxon alarms cut Wedge off. Spinning around, he turned his attention back to the terminal, bringing up a holofeed and routing it to the main display. Approaching the front entrance were perhaps a dozen rather well-armed individuals who didn't look as if they were there for a friendly chat. Without thinking, Wedge depressed a button on the terminal, transmitting a silent order to every Rogue in the vicinity to prepare for blaster fire.

"Who invited the company?" Wes asked, reaching for his service blaster and disarming the safety. "I'm looking at you, Face."

"Why me?" Face asked defensively.

"You seem to bring along an entourage wherever you go."

Shaking his head, Wedge approached the door to the hallway and stuck his head through. Immediately he recoiled backwards, just barely missing a volley of blaster fire. "Definitely not friendly," he said. "Remind me to demand hazard pay from Cracken when we're done here."

"Looks like they're getting ready to storm us," Tycho said, moving towards the table in the center of the room and turning it onto its side. "They're not wasting any time."

Wedge bunkered down behind the table and checked his own blaster. "Plans, anyone?"

"I personally plan to throw my hands up in the air, surrender, and plead for mercy," Face said, taking a seat next to him. "You didn't say that there would be a firefight when you invited me to this little party."

"If I invite you anywhere, there's a general assumption that a firefight will happen," Wedge responded, wincing as the blaster fire seemed to be coming closer. "Any actual plans?"

"If I may," Tycho calmly said, reaching to his belt and withdrawing a thermal detonator.

Wes stared at it incredulously. "You keep one of those on you?"

"You don't?"

Grinning, Wedge looked over the table. They still had a few moments. "Tycho, as soon as you see them, lob that detonator and take out as many of them as you can. Wes, I want you situated and ready to pick off any stragglers. I'll lay down suppression fire."

"What do I do?" Face asked.

"Don't get your head blown off."

Wedge gave the order and everyone assumed their positions. Tycho stood beside the door, peering over it with the detonator ready in-hand. Behind Wedge, Wes knelt beside the terminal, somewhat concealed but with a clear line of sight to the door. The blaster fire was closer now. In the distance, Wedge could make out the shouts of his pilots, doing their part to stem the invasion. It was only the years of service that allowed him to shove the worry he felt down a few levels to focus on the task at hand.

"Armed!" Tycho shouted. "Brace for it!"

Mere moments later, an explosion rocked them. Cries of both surprise and agony filled the air but were immediately replaced by additional blaster fire. Rising, Wedge began laying down suppression fire through the doorway along with Face, holding back the advance of the remaining infiltrators. From behind them, Wes snapped off a shot and a body fell across the hall in front of the door. Ever the marksman, Wes carefully moved forward for a better angle and snapped off another shot.

"They're going into retreat!" Wes shouted as he risked a glance down the hallway. "Chase?"

Wedge shook his head and stood. "No, that's enough damage for one day. Can you go check up on the others?"

Wes nodded a confirmation and quickly disappeared down the hallway.

"That looked like a pretty organized assault," Face mused. "Almost militaristic."

"Definitely not something you'd see from someone wearing one of these uniforms, anyways," Tycho said, gesturing to one of the fallen attackers.

Wedge strode towards the door to take a look for himself. There were several deceased bodies littered throughout the hallway, all of them wearing Ploomian Security uniforms. Once more, warning bells went off in his head. Why send your own security forces to attack a delegation you're trying to secure a very lucrative deal with? It simply didn't add up. Just like the TIE Defenders. Just like the shuttle. Just like the ion discharges Karrde had found.

"These men were far too organized and precise to be Ploomian Security," Tycho noted. "I see those formations and I can't help but think Remnant stormtroopers."

A chilly hush fell over the three men. "Who wants to say what we're all thinking?" Wedge said.

"We've got Remnant on-world?" Face asked.

Before Wedge could answer, his comlink went off. "Good news, boss," Wes said over it. "Everyone's okay for the most part. A few scrapes and bruises. Rusarian took a good shot to the leg, but it doesn't appear to be life threatening. He'll definitely need to be lifted to a medical facility sooner rather than later."

"I'll give him a lift in our shuttle," Face said. "I'm pretty sure the _Redemption _is nearby. We'll have him patched up in no time."

"Thanks, do it," Wedge said.

Tycho shook his head. "What now?" he asked.

"We get our merry band of diplomats back here as fast as possible," Wedge said, lifting the comlink to his mouth once more. "Corran, this is Wedge. Something's happened."

* * *

><p>"Horn," Corran responded into his comm. It was dinnertime, and the New Republic delegation had settled into the downstairs cantina for their evening meal. The others looked at him curiously; they hadn't received many outside comms during their stay on Plooma, and when they had, it had usually been accompanied by bad news.<p>

This time was no different.

"Corran, this is Wedge. Something's happened."

"Everything alright, boss?" Corran asked.

"Can't talk now."

Translation: _We think comms are being monitored. We need you at the safehouse._ "Got it." Luke cocked his head; Corran motioned that they needed to leave the cantina. The other man called the waitress over to settle the bill.

"Also, fly solo."

"Copy that," Corran said. Translation: _Take a private speeder. You're being tailed._ He was suddenly very uneasy.

"It'll be dark soon. Antilles out."

Corran placed his comm back on his belt. "Well?" Mara asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Wedge wants us at the safehouse. He couldn't say why."

The others nodded in understanding, and they made their way to a secluded area of the lobby, making sure they weren't being followed. "I'll call for transportation," Karrde offered.

"Negative on that. We need to take private transport. And we need to wait until dark to leave."

"Well that doesn't sound promising at all," Hobbie commented. "Who else thinks that seems to be the theme for this trip?"

Mara snorted. "Yeah, just a bit. Anyone know where we can get a speeder?"

Everyone shook their heads. After a few seconds, Corran snapped his fingers and pointed at Mara. "Call Murray," he suggested.

"Excuse me?"

"Murray Dyartes. Lissiri's errand boy. He gave you his comm the first day here, remember? Said to call at any hour of the day?"

"Horn. I am _not_ calling that boy and asking to borrow his speeder. He doesn't need any encouragement."

"It isn't a bad idea, Mara," Luke said.

"Oh, yeah, you _would_ think that. Not a jealous husband, are you?"

He shrugged. "Sorry, but it seems like we don't have much of a choice. If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll comm him. Give me his frequency."

Mara stared at him for a moment. Corran could feel her unease at Luke calling her out on her feelings. Not one to let Skywalker get the best of her, she snatched the comlink off her belt. "No, I'll do it," she said, turning around to make the call in private.

Ten minutes later, after it had grown dark outside, Murray rushed into the lobby, seemingly out of breath. "I got here as quickly as I could, Captain Jade," he announced, bowing his head to her. "My speeder is parked at the west side entrance. You should be free of any surveillance from that exit."

Mara patted his shoulder graciously. "Thank you, Murray. Don't worry, we'll return your speeder in one piece."

"You could return my speeder smashed into pieces, and I would not mind. I am glad to assist you in any way possible, Captain Jade." He bowed again.

"Riiiight. Well, thank you again."

Corran had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Mara still stomped on his foot as they made their way toward the speeder.

* * *

><p>"Alright, here's the situation," Wedge began without preamble. The delegation had arrived several minutes earlier and was swept into the briefing room with hardly any time for pleasantries. "Earlier in the evening, Captain Sarkin Tainer was engaged in a routine patrol over a remote area of the planet—"<p>

"Plooooooomaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"—with Captain Forge monitoring from orbit. Sarkin Tainer reported that she was under fire and she and Forge engaged the enemy. At the same time, we came under fire here at the safehouse. We managed to diffuse the situation, and Captain Loran noted that the attackers were wearing Ploomian Security uniforms."

"PloSec," Corran coughed. "And by the way, General, where is Face now?"

"Unfortunately Flight Officer Rusarian was injured in the firefight, and Face offered to escort him to the nearest medical frigate," Wedge responded.

"Oh. That's too bad," Corran said. He gestured at Luke and Mara, who were sitting next to him with their arms crossed over their chests. "I bet the Skywalkers here would have _loved_ to meet him."

Wedge ignored the loud _smack_ that echoed through the room as Mara hit Corran on the head. "As I was saying," he continued, "Captain Loran noted that the attackers were wearing Ploomian Security uniforms, but upon further investigation we realized that these attackers were too organized to be locals."

"Let me guess," Hobbie interjected. "You don't think they were from Ploomian Security at all, do you?"

"No."

"Who do you think they were? No, wait! Let me guess. I think I might be able to figure this one out for myself. Could it be...Remnant stormtroopers?"

"Ding ding ding!" Wes announced, holding Hobbie's arm in the air victoriously. "We have a winner! Give this man a prize! Two round trip tickets straight into a battle zone!"

Wedge grimaced. "That would be our guess, yes."

Hobbie sighed. "Why can't these things ever be easy?"

"Because we're Rogues!" Wes said. "Skywalker wrote it in the charter."

Luke nodded. "Article three, section four, codicil number 1," he recited. "Any situation involving Rogue Squadron activity must advance to the highest level of difficulty possible for said situation."

Everyone laughed at that, except for Mara, who turned to Luke incredulously. She placed the back of her palm on his forehead. "Someone call a medic. Skywalker has grown a sense of humor. I think he's hallucinating."

Luke grinned and took her hand in his. "Then you're not always this beautiful?"

The laughter in the room grew even louder, and Wedge had to turn around to keep from losing complete control of himself. After a few moments he turned around, clearing his throat and doing his best to ignore the crimson growing on Mara's cheeks. "Alright children, let's get serious. We have a very dangerous security issue on our hands. Karrde, have your people managed to get a credit trace on Lissiri yet?"

The information broker shook his head. "We're still on it. Apparently, Lissiri is very good at covering her tracks."

"Oh. That's also very reassuring," Hobbie said.

"Keep on that, Karrde, and let me know as soon as your people get any information. In the meantime, we need to keep tabs on Lissiri's movements. Any ideas?"

"I can trace her," Corran volunteered.

"That's not a bad idea, but since you're a part of the delegation she'll notice you way too easily," Wedge replied.

"One of us can do it?" Tycho suggested.

"That's a possibility, but I think I'd be more comfortable having all the Rogues available for possible combat situations at all times."

"I have an idea," Mara said softly. She straightened up in her chair, putting on her normal air of complete confidence. "I'm pretty sure her assistant would do it for us."

"Yeah, I bet he will if you ask _real _nicely—ow!"

Wedge ignored Corran's scream of pain. "That's a great idea, Mara. Can you take point on that?"

"Sure thing."

"Wait," Luke interjected. Mara gave him a questioning look, as did Wedge. "If you don't mind, Wedge, we're meeting with the Ploomian delegation tomorrow. I'd prefer to confront them about the situation before we ask Murray to trace Lissiri."

"Sure, if you think—"

"And what good would that do, Skywalker?" Mara cut in. "You think she'll have a crisis of conscience and confess her sins to us right there in front of her fellow delegates?"

"No, I think that if we confront the delegation point blank about what's been going on, Lissiri might reveal things unintentionally. It would be a good way for us to read her intentions."

"Oh. Right. You want to use _the Force._"

"Why shouldn't we? We're Jedi, right?"

"Speak for yourself. And I don't see why it's at all necessary in this situation."

"Because it's one more tool to add to our arsenal. I would think that you of all people would appreciate that idea."

"Just what is _that_ supposed to mean, Skywalker?"

"It means—"

During this exchange, Wedge had begun massaging his temples in pain. Wes and Corran were laughing openly, while Hobbie was banging his head against the back of his chair. Karrde was smirking at the bickering couple, and the other Rogues were alternating between ignoring the awkward situation and placing bets on how long it would take for Mara to hit Luke.

Finally, Wedge couldn't take it anymore. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, stopping all conversation in the room, except for Wes, who couldn't stop giggling. "Janson?" he said slowly.

"Yes, General?" he replied in between giggles.

"You're on kitchen duty for a week when we get back."

"Aw come on—!"

Wedge raised his hand, cutting him off. He looked up and took a deep breath, forcing himself to project as much patience as possible. "Luke," he started, "go ahead with your plan to confront the delegation tomorrow and see if you can glean any information. Mara, after the negotiations, you're to ask Murray if he will trace Lissiri for us. Any objections?"

Luke and Mara glanced at each other, then sighed and shook their heads.

"Good. Now everyone get out of here."

As the delegation began to shuffle out of the briefing room, Wedge grabbed Hobbie's arm and pulled him aside. "What'd I do now, boss?" the perpetually dour pilot asked.

"It's what you _haven't_ done that amazes me," Wedge replied. "When we get home, I'm putting you in for a medal of valor for not having killed all three of them."

"I appreciate that very much, General. But instead, can I just go home right now?"

"No."

"Well, a medal sounds nice anyway."

* * *

><p>The New Republic delegation was quiet during the ride back to the hotel, the late hour and the events of the day finally taking their toll. Karrde sat in the back seat of the small speeder, squeezed between the side door and Mara, who in turn was squished between her pretend husband and her former boss. (She had not, it appeared, taken Horn's suggestion of sitting on Luke's lap to heart.) Karrde read his datapad as best he could in the dim light, not wanting to turn up the screen's brightness for fear of disturbing the others. But as the lights from an oncoming speeder shone into the back seat, Karrde found his attention snatched away by the companions sitting next to him.<p>

Mara Jade, former Emperor's Hand and ruthless assassin, was sleeping soundly, nestled in the crook of the arm of the man she'd once swore to kill. Her head rested on Luke's shoulder while his arm draped over hers, his prosthetic fingers absentmindedly caressing the bare skin that peeked out from underneath her jacket. Watching them like this, Karrde was taken aback; he had never seen Mara look so at peace, with her lips curled into the barest hint of a smile.

The hardened smuggler stared at them fondly, stroking his mustache as a genuine smile spread across his face. But he was not thinking of his bet with Mara or how embarrassed this situation would make her when she awoke. No, at that moment Karrde could not think of anything of the sort. For ten years Mara had been almost like a daughter to him, and seeing her like this, so peaceful and serene, he could only hope that, one day soon, she would finally find the strength to put to rest all her past issues and find true happiness.

Before he could even finish his thought, Mara's eyes fluttered in the flashing lights of another oncoming speeder. They snapped open as she realized where she was; for a few seconds, she remained completely still, staring up at the Jedi Master with an unreadable expression. Then she abruptly pushed herself upright, removing herself from Luke's embrace and pulling her arms tight around her chest, as she tried to put as much distance as possible between herself and the man sitting by her side.

After a few moments, as if she could sense his stare, Mara glanced at her former boss before quickly looking away again. Her hard green eyes did not betray any trace of the vulnerability that had just peeked out from behind her carefully constructed shields, but Karrde knew the woman well enough to know that it was still there, hidden deep beneath the icy surface.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

The oppressive silence in the conference room spoke volumes.

On one side of the table were the Ploomian diplomats. Ambassador Gemar's anxiety was all too visible, the sweat on his brow and his constant fidgeting giving it all away. Director Lissiri's usual icy, expressionless stare had downgraded into a full-on scowl. Murray, seated next to her, had already torn seven sheets of flimsi to pieces in an attempt to calm his nerves. Even the usually affable and outgoing Fiolla was behaving herself in a decidedly reserved manner, perhaps sensing the gravity of the situation.

Opposite them were the Republic delegates, faring no better themselves. Corran had locked himself into a war of glaring with Lissiri while Mara had resorted to directing her anger at anyone who dared glance at her. Luke did his best to keep the tension from escalating further, but there was a harsh edge in his voice that suggested even he was nearing the end of his patience. Hobbie couldn't blame him; after being shot at numerous times and having Imperial starfighters thrown at them, it was becoming all too clear that the usual diplomatic pleasantries weren't going to suffice anymore.

Not to mention that Luke still believed he could flush out Lissiri's misdeeds with a round of harsh interrogation. Even though she had disagreed with him, Mara seemed to be gleefully going along with his plan right now. Perhaps she just enjoyed antagonizing people. _That would explain so much_, Hobbie thought.

Thanks to Luke's plan, the next round of diplomatic negotiations had barely advanced out of the usual exchange of pleasantries before the atmosphere turned cold. _At least we've all established that lunch was halfway decent,_ Hobbie mused to himself. It had taken nearly an hour, but the three-hundred kilo bantha in the room was finally discussed when Corran casually brought up some unusual ship traffic they had spotted a day earlier. Director Lissiri somehow seemed to grow testier, demanding to know specifically what he was talking about.

When Hobbie revealed that the ships had been Imperial TIE Defenders, the hush seemed to magnify tenfold.

"I do hope you appreciate the severity of this," Luke calmly said, breaking the silence. "Spotting Imperial Remnant ships on-world forces us to ask difficult questions. As much as I may want to trust you, I have to wonder if you're negotiating with the Remnant as well."

"I'd do more than wonder if they're negotiating," Corran added. "We spotted a transport shuttle a few days ago; I think they've already cut a deal with them."

Gemar swallowed and shook his head. "No deals have been made with the Remnant. There are no records of their presence here since your arrival so I'm certain this is just a misunderstanding—"

"You call four TIE Defenders chasing down three of our pilots a 'misunderstanding?'" Mara fired back. "I'd say that falls more under 'hostile intent.'"

Raising his hands, Gemar continued, "I assure you there have been no deals made with the Remnant, this is—"

"I would like to know just what you were doing spying on our mining facilities," Lissiri interrupted. "Your...military escort gallivanting around on their own was not a part of our agreement. I did not even want them here. Certainly three Jedi can care for themselves without needing twelve armed thugs hovering over them."

"Director Lissiri, I—" Luke started.

Hobbie decided it was his turn to interrupt the flow of conversation. "Director, I believe I need to bring you up to speed on Rogue Squadron's function within the Republic," he said, narrowing his eyes. "The Rogues possess some of the sharpest minds in all of the military and, as such, are regularly used as an investigative body by both military high command _and _the Senate. It is one thing to impress the Jedi—" He nodded towards his associates. "—and you have done an excellent job making your case to them. However, you will also have to prove to the Rogues that everything here is running as smoothly as you claim."

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Thus far, you have not done a remotely adequate job addressing our concerns. I will lay this out for you as succinctly as possible. Unless you are able to either explain the presence of a Lambda-class shuttle and four TIE Defenders or prove definitively that your government or your people weren't involved, my commanding officer will report back to the Senate and tell them that we should terminate negotiations."

"And I must warn you," Corran said, "General Antilles carries a tremendous amount of favor with the Senate..." He glanced towards Luke. "Perhaps as much as Master Skywalker does."

The color drained from Gemar's face. "I...I see," he said. "I believe it would be appropriate to adjourn this meeting for today. I wish to begin my own investigation immediately."

"I think that's a very wise decision," Luke said, standing from his seat and offering a small bow of his head. "We should speak with the Rogues as well and see if their investigation has turned anything up. I will personally contact you if anything of note is found."

They stood to leave the room, leaving the Ploomian delegates to reflect over that threat. _That should do nicely_, Hobbie remarked to himself.

"Klivian, I had no idea you had that in you," Mara said as they entered a lift to the ground floor.

"Excuse me?" Hobbie asked.

"The 'angry interrogator' routine. I swear you about scared the life out of Gemar."

Hobbie merely shrugged. "Wes and I had a good instructor, bad instructor act we used to use on unsuspecting students when we were teaching at the Academy."

"I'm guessing you were the bad instructor?" Luke asked.

Hobbie grinned. "Wes had to give me fifty credits if I managed to make a cadet cry during their verbal exams."

"That's just sadistic," Mara said. "I approve."

The lift finally stopped at the ground level. "So what do we do now?" Corran asked, looking over his shoulder as he stepped out.

"Continue with the plan as Wedge ordered," Hobbie said. "There's something about Lissiri that's not sitting well with me."

"You mean other than the fact she's got a wicked stare that could give old Iceheart a run for her money?"

"Yeah," Luke agreed. "I have a feeling we're heading headfirst for some trouble."

"Now you're starting to sound like Hobbie," Corran said.

Hobbie glared back in response.

* * *

><p>It was early evening by the time the delegation got back to the hotel. They were exhausted and still reeling from the confrontation during the negotiations. Lissiri hadn't let slip anything that they didn't already know, and had managed to cover her indiscretions by merely acting concerned that the security breaches would affect the outcome of the diplomatic negotiations. Corran had to hand it to the woman; she was a true professional.<p>

But as much as she managed to hide her direct thoughts about any misdeeds on her part, she couldn't hide her emotions from two (and a half) Jedi who were intently focused on reading them. If Lissiri's thoughts were muddled, then her emotions were clear—there was definitely something wicked in the Ploomian Security Force, and it all stemmed from the woman at the top.

The four of them decided to eat dinner in their rooms, so they could freely talk about the day's events and what they'd do next. They were seated at Corran and Hobbie's large dining table, eating a meal they'd picked up from the downstairs cantina. To his delight, Corran noted that Luke had not only pulled out Mara's chair before she sat down, but he'd also arranged the food on her plate, cut her meat, and poured her a generous drink. Throughout the meal he acted overwhelmingly polite, and her response was to gape at him as if he had grown a second head.

Corran smiled; he was being treated to dinner _and _a show.

Unfortunately, Luke's relentless compliments had to put aside to talk shop. "So," he began, pausing to swallow the bite of meat he'd been chewing, "would it be safe to assume that the both of you got the same impressions from Lissiri as I did?"

Corran was the first to chime in. "She was definitely good at blocking her thoughts, but her discomfort was obvious. There's something going on in PloSec, but she's not gonna slip on her own."

Luke nodded in agreement. "Mara?" he asked.

She looked up from her meal, her expression unreadable. "I couldn't get anything either. Which is exactly what I predicted yesterday."

"Yes, but now we know for sure that she's hiding something."

"Oh, and we didn't already know that yesterday?"

"Mara—"

"Lady, gentleman!" Corran interjected. "Let's not argue at the dinner table, please? Save that for the bedroom."

A glob of something orange and creamy hit Corran in the forehead.

"Anyway," Luke said, "now that we know for sure that Lissiri is up to something, Mara can go ahead with her plan to contact Murray."

"Thank you for permission, oh wise Jedi Master husband."

"Mara—"

"Oh will you just call him already?" Hobbie exclaimed. He grabbed his glass and practically threw the remaining beverage into his mouth, then shoved himself away from the table and stalked toward the liquor bottle on the counter.

Corran smirked and followed him as Mara pulled out her comlink. "So, Hobbie, enjoying the show?"

"Corran, I'm beginning to hate you."

"What?" Corran feigned offense, holding his hand over his heart. "Come on. The two of them _need_ this."

"Why, so they can kill each other?"

"I'm disappointed in you, Hobbie." Corran shook his head. "I thought you were more romantic than this."

"You think _that_—" Hobbie gestured to where Luke and Mara had again started bickering, now that she had gotten off the comlink. Luke's hand came to Mara's shoulder and she violently pushed it away, practically hissing at him. "—Is romantic?"

"They just need a little push in the right direction."

"Maybe they do, but trust me—you are _not _it."

Corran grinned, holding up the bottle of Ploomian alcohol. "And that's where _this_ comes in."

Once again, Hobbie's head found the counter. Corran patted his fellow Rogue on the back and rejoined the lovebirds at the table.

"He's on his way," Mara announced, not looking at all forward for the enthusiastic PloSec intern to join them.

"Is he bringing you a present?"

Another orange, creamy glob of food landed on Corran's head.

* * *

><p>Hobbie was on his third drink by the time Murray Dyartes rang the door chime. The young man was red and panting, leading Hobbie to wonder if he had forgone the turbolift and ran up the emergency stairwells. He broke into a huge smile and rushed to Mara, kissing her hand. "Captain Jade! You require my assistance? Do you need my speeder again? I would be glad to have you borrow it for another evening!"<p>

Mara put out a hand. "Not exactly, Murray." She glanced to Luke, who nodded encouragingly. Mara rolled her eyes and gestured for Murray to join them at the table. "We need you to help us with something very important. But first, we need to request that anything we say here remains a secret, do you understand?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Certainly! Anything for you."

"Yes, well…right. Here's the thing, Murray. We need you to spy on your boss."

Murray's eyes grew as wide as saucers. "Pardon?"

"What my wife means to say," Luke cut in, earning a vicious stare from the redhead, "is that we have some misgivings about Director Lissiri. We feel it would be in our best interest if we had some way to keep tabs on her dealings at all times. You are closest to her, and would be the best to keep us informed of her actions."

"Thank you, _husband,_" Mara spat. She turned back to Murray. "So, like I said. We need you to spy on her."

"Oh…" Murray leaned back in his chair, visibly blanching. "I would certainly love to help you...but I am not sure I can do such a thing."

From the corner of his eye, Hobbie saw Mara grimace. Then she leaned forward, ever so slightly touching Murray's arm. "We understand this puts you in a precarious situation," she told him, her tone of voice deepening ever so slightly. "We would _never_ ask you to do such a thing if it wasn't _very _important."

During this, Luke had turned to Mara incredulously while Corran was stifling his laughter behind his glass. Murray, of course, took no notice of the other men, only of the woman who was grasping his arm.

Hobbie generously helped himself to his fourth beverage of the evening.

"I…I understand, Captain Jade. It's just…Director Lissiri is my direct superior. If I do well in these negotiations, I have been promised a higher position. I have been dreaming of becoming a Ploomian Security officer my entire life. This may finally be my chance!"

Across the table, Corran nodded in understanding. "Yes, I understand completely. Being a CorSec officer was a great time in my life."

"Pardon?"

"Ignore him, he's delusional," Mara said. "Murray, answer me a question: how old are you?"

"…Twenty-five, Captain Jade," Murray replied, looking slightly confused.

"And how long have you been Director Lissiri's intern?"

"Three years. Since I completed university and joined the organization."

"Are there many Ploomian Security officers who are your age?"

"Yes, I know of several."

"Did they start working around the same time as you did?"

Luke finally interrupted Mara's line of questioning. "Dear, is there a point to all this?"

"Of course there is, _dear,_" she snarled. Her eyes narrowed tightly, then Luke turned away, rolling his own eyes.

_Oh, fantastic,_ Hobbie thought. _Now they're even bickering through the Force._ He took a large gulp of his drink.

Again Mara placed her hand on the young man's arm. "Murray…have you ever considered the fact that perhaps Director Lissiri is deliberately holding you back so that you will remain her intern?"

"What?" Murray exclaimed, pulling his arm away from Mara's. "I do not understand. Why would you say such a thing?"

"Because it's true, Murray," Luke said. "You have been her intern for many years. You know many of her secrets. She is used to you being there to assist her. Perhaps she does not want to get acclimated to having a new assistant, or perhaps she has more nefarious purposes and is worried about stories you might tell among your fellow officers. Whatever the case, it is obvious—she is holding you back."

Luke turned to Mara and smiled, as if he expected her to be grateful for having her back. But instead she glared vibroblades at him and looked like she wanted to bite his head off.

Hobbie poured yet another drink.

"Thank you, _husband,_" she growled. "As much as I hate to say it, he's right, Murray. I think she's holding you back. I know it can be very difficult, to learn that the person you serve has bad intentions…but wouldn't you rather know the truth?"

After a few moments, Murray nodded vigorously. "You are right, Captain Jade. I have been wondering about Director Lissiri's intentions for a rather long time, but every time I bring up a promotion she changes the subject. She stated that if I do well with these negotiations, she would finally put me in to be an officer…

"And then she started disapproving everything you did?"

"That is correct," Murray nodded sadly, "even though I have done everything she has asked." He looked up determinedly. "Yes. I will do as you ask, Captain Jade."

Mara smiled brightly. "Thank you, Murray. We will be eternally grateful for your help."

"Yes, thank you," Luke said, smiling just as brightly. Mara ignored him and continued, explaining exactly what they needed Murray to do, and giving him explicit instructions _not_to get caught. Finally the boy left, eager and determined to prove himself to the delegation…but most of all to Mara.

As soon as the door closed, Mara turned to Luke and slowly advanced on him. "What the _hell_ was that about?"

"What? You mean me backing you up in there?"

"Yes! I had it perfectly under control, you know!"

"Oh yeah you did, practically feeling him up! Real nice Mara, really nice."

"Excuse me? You were the one who encouraged me to call him, and _now_ you're playing jealous?"

"I am _not _jealous, I just think it was highly unnecessary!"

"Oh please! Maybe you've forgotten, but I was a spy! I know how to get people to do what I want! And I was _not _'feeling him up,' I was touching his arm!"

"I don't think he really knows the difference when it comes to you! And what was all that career advice about anyway?"

"What the hell, Skywalker? You backed me up in there!"

"Yeah, so we could get him to go along with our plan! But you didn't have to dig into the poor boy's personal life!"

"Well maybe I feel bad for him, okay? Maybe I think he deserves better!"

"Oh, that's rich coming from you—"

"That's it, I am going to punch you so hard—!"

"Yeah, you just try it—!"

_"ENOUGH!"_

The room turned silent in a second. Mara and Luke turned to Hobbie incredulously. Corran's mouth was hanging open. Hobbie glanced at the drink in his hand and sighed. _Thank you, liquid courage,_ he silently whispered. He looked up menacingly. "I have had _enough_ of you two bickering at each other." He turned to Corran. "And I have had enough of _you_ encouraging them! You're adults! You're _Jedi_!" Mara opened her mouth to protest but Hobbie didn't give her a chance. _"I know!"_ he snapped. "You're _not _a Jedi! Well who gives a kriff! Act like adults who can use the Force and stop bickering for just one sweet second so I can finish this drink in peace! Now go to your room!"

Mara and Luke glanced at each other hesitantly, but didn't move. Hobbie slammed down his glass and pointed at the door. "NOW!"

The two companions hurried away, neither of them saying a word on their way out the door. Hobbie hurriedly crossed toward his bedroom, but unfortunately he wasn't fast enough. "Hey Hobbie," Corran called, "I've never heard you say so many words all at once!"

"Shove it, Horn!"

That night, Hobbie slept more soundly than he'd had in over a week.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

"Hey Hobbie, you want to get something to eat?" Luke asked cautiously, peeking his head into the living area. Hobbie was propped on the couch, studying some datapads that Karrde had brought over.

Since his blow-up several nights prior, Hobbie had avoided the rest of the delegation as much as possible. Luke, of course, was doing his best to make up for his behavior. Mara had been acting unusually quiet and polite. Even Corran had stopped acting out in front of Hobbie, although Hobbie had heard the Corellian antagonizing the unhappy couple when he thought Hobbie wasn't paying attention. Part of Hobbie felt bad for exploding at them the way he had, but the other part was happy that he hadn't been subject to their bickering for the past few days. Especially since the atmosphere between the two delegations had grown frigid. Hobbie wanted to be free of distractions if he was to be called to action.

Still, he felt bad saying no to Luke. He had fallen back into his eager-to-please farmboy persona, with both Hobbie _and_ Mara. Hobbie wondered if he was just embarrassed for acting in a decidedly non-Jedi Master fashion.

He shook his head anyway. "Thanks, but no thanks. I want to look over these reports from Karrde."

Luke nodded. "Is there anything interesting?"

"Just some stuff about Ploomian Security. Same old stuff."

"Okay, well, if you change your mind, we'll be downstairs."

"Sure thing."

"Hey Hobbie? Sorry again for making things so uncomfortable. It's just…whenever Mara's around…I don't know…I get so frustrated!"

"It's okay, Luke. You don't have to explain yourself." Hobbie waved his hand. "I understand."

"Oh, no! It's not like that! We just have a, um, very complicated relationship."

Corran, who had just entered the room, patted Luke on the arm. "You're telling us!"

Luke rolled his eyes and grabbed the other man's arm. "Come on, CorSec."

Hobbie said farewell and then, thankfully, was left alone. He said a short prayer of gratitude and got back to work.

* * *

><p>On the one hand, being summoned by Karrde was a relief. It meant he had found something.<p>

On the other, being summoned by Karrde filled Wedge with a certain sense of dread. It meant he had found something.

"What do you have for me?" Wedge asked as he walked into the makeshift briefing room.

"Well," Karrde replied from his seat, leaning back and propping his boots on the table in front of him. "That depends on how much you've convinced your superiors to pay me."

"Always business with you, isn't it?"

"Yes, but you knew that already."

Rolling his eyes, Wedge settled into a chair and slide a datapad across the table towards the information broker. Karrde picked it up and offered an impressed whistle. "I'm not sure how you talked Cracken into this figure, but let me just say that if you're looking for a new line of work anytime soon, don't hesitate to give me a call."

"I'll keep that in mind," Wedge responded with a half-grin. "Now what did you and your collection of scoundrels manage to dig up?"

The information broker offered a tight smile. "Well, you were right to suspect a Remnant presence on-world."

Wedge felt his stomach drop. Of course, he knew that this was coming, but that didn't stop him from clinging to a bit of hope that he was just being paranoid, that there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for the TIE starfighters, the shuttle, the ion engine traces, the strange credit fluctuations, all the weird behavior. Well, perhaps not a _reasonable_ explanation. And perhaps that bit of hope was more of a long-shot dream that involved him leaving Plooma without being shot at again. Idly he realized Hobbie might be on to something by never raising his expectations.

"I had Aves run the credit trace on Director Lissiri and he found some..." Karrde paused for a moment. "_Interesting _transactions. Once a week she's receiving about five thousand credits from a bank headquartered on Nal Hutta."

"The Hutts are behind this? I thought you said it was the Remnant."

Karrde shook his head. "Aves and I thought it was the Hutts at first, but I asked him to run the trace a bit deeper. We followed those credits through a half-dozen other banks and worlds before we finally managed to trace the origin."

"Let me guess," Wedge said dryly. "Bastion?"

"See, you _are_cut out for the intelligence and information gathering business," Karrde replied. "You ever considered putting in for a transfer to Starfighter Command administration or NRI?"

Wedge shuddered. "Absolutely not. I'd sooner move to Agamar and tend to a farm every day than become a military desk jockey."

"Hey, that's just my opinion," Karrde replied, holding up his hands defensively. "But there you have it: Lissiri is receiving credits from the Remnant. We've also intercepted some encrypted communications outbound from her office, but my people haven't had time to decipher them yet. I handed a copy over to your people to see if they could do anything with it. Still, I do believe that should give you enough to bring her in for a thorough...debriefing."

"Indeed," Wedge replied, fishing his comlink out of his pocket. "Pash, are you still monitoring the holocam feeds?"

"I was just about to comm you myself," Pash responded over the comlink. "Lissiri's on the move. It looks like she's heading to the delegation's suite."

"Is anyone with her?"

"Negative. She's by herself."

Wedge swore to himself. Director Lissiri never travelled alone; usually she had her assistant with her. If she was on foot by herself, that could only mean...

"Where's the delegation right now?" Wedge asked.

"Skywalker, Jade, and Horn said they were heading out to get something to eat, but..." Pash trailed off. "Oh, sithspit! Wedge, that message Karrde gave us to look over—it was sent from a holonet terminal in a nearby village and Forge just managed to decrypt it."

"What does it say?"

"It's pretty brief," Pash responded. "Message reads 'I have Skywalker and Rogue Squadron.'"

"She must be trying to lure Luke into a trap right now," Wedge mused aloud. "But that means she doesn't know he's gone." Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a thought flashed through his mind. "Pash...where's Hobbie?"

"He's..." Pash started. "Uh oh."

Karrde looked up from his datapad. "Uh oh?"

"Hobbie's in trouble." Wedge winced. "Well, we _all _will be before long."

* * *

><p>Hobbie was in the middle of studying the second datapad when it suddenly dropped from his hands and he leaned forward, stunned. How had nobody noticed this information before? It was a very weak link, but it was the first item of proof that they needed, in the form of a comm record from a public HoloNet provider in one of Plooma's villages:<p>

Valara had been in contact with the Remnant, and it had been very recent—right before the New Republic delegation had arrived.

Hobbie jumped up and ran to the door, eager to tell the others what he'd learned—

And as he opened the door, he was confronted with Valara Lissiri, who looked very, _very _angry.

* * *

><p>Corran had been feeling uneasy all evening. Perhaps it was his conscience finally getting the best of him for his behavior on this trip. He had to admit that he had been unusually obnoxious, but it was with good intentions! Luke and Mara were his friends. He had trained with Mara for a time and Luke had been his Jedi master. It was obvious to everyone in the galaxy that they were made for each other. He had felt the same way about Wedge and Iella and hadn't done anything about it, and then Wedge had ended up with the blue chick for two years, and Iella had been miserable. He had always regretted not knocking sense into Wedge earlier, and now he vowed not to make the same mistake with Luke and Mara.<p>

Again, he had probably not gone about it in the best of ways. Perhaps he could have sat down and had a serious conversation with Luke about the nature of his relationship with Mara. He could have confronted Mara about her feelings for Luke, and why she refused to come clean with him about her displeasure with how he was running the Jedi Order. That would have been the smart thing to do.

Well, Mirax had always told him that he could be a prize idiot.

His uneasiness continued throughout the meal, and just as he finally began to wonder if something was actually wrong, Murray Dyartes came rushing into the cantina. He stood in the lobby for a few moments until he noticed the delegation. Then he ran over and began to ramble something very excitedly. Corran couldn't make out his words, the boy was so keyed up. Finally, Mara held out her arm to stop him.

"Murray, calm down. Here, have a drink." Mara handed over her glass and Murray accepted it greedily. He gulped down the rest of the beverage and slammed the glass on the table. Corran raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Something was _very _wrong…

"Captain Jade, Master Skywalker, Jedi Horn. I have the information you seek!" Murray held out a datapad. Luke took it and began to read through the pages, his eyes widening with each new file.

"Director Lissiri has been talking to the Imperial Remnant! I found the records; she was speaking to them from public HoloNet stations, using an assumed name. I followed her the other day and got a copy of her conversation. She was speaking with a general—they are going to attack!"

"Holy crap," Corran murmured.

"Blue milk run, my ass," Mara muttered.

"Murray, did you uncover any reasons _why_ she was doing this?" Luke said.

The intern nodded. "It seems that she was offered credits and a commission in their military if she convinced the Ploomian government to join the Remnant."

"…_That's_ why she's been so hostile!" Corran exclaimed. The others looked at him curiously, and he began to explain his theory with vigor. "At the ball, Gemar explained that Lissiri was the person who first encouraged Plooma to contact the New Republic. She thought that she could undermine the negotiations, point out that Plooma would be safer joining the Remnant, and then they could join the Remnant without any suspicions. She'd get her credits and commission and nobody would be the wiser. But when she found out that Jedi were coming, Gemar said she grew hostile. She _knew _that the Ploomians would support an alliance with the Republic if the Jedi were involved, and her plan was compromised. So instead she decided to offer the Remnant something they couldn't resist: Luke Skywalker and Rogue Squadron."

Mara patted Corran on the back. "I guess you still have it in you, CorSec."

Luke shook his head in disbelief. "This…this is bad."

"It's even worse. She was coming here to confront you!" Murray said. "I tried to get here before her and warn you, and thank the gods I was successful."

"Yes, we can't thank you enough…" Luke trailed off, and then he, Corran, and Mara gasped in unison.

_"Hobbie!"_

* * *

><p>Hobbie had two options.<p>

The first was to take immediate action, grab his sidearm, set it to stun, and blast Lissiri before she could react. It didn't take a thermofusial engineer to figure out that she was here with hostile intent. Her eyes seemed to be a touch more icy than usual. Blasting her on the spot would be the quick option, but there would be so much paperwork to fill out later. Wedge would probably scold him, too. Then there would be Skywalker and Horn, who would chastise him for not calling for help. Jade would probably approve, though.

Option the second was to try and converse with her, ascertain why she was there and try to keep the situation from escalating to the point where she would be pointing a blaster at _him_. The diplomatic approach was difficult, but if he played things correctly there was a decent chance he wouldn't find himself floating in a bacta bath when all was said and done. As a bonus, Wedge would probably leave him alone.

Option number two it was.

"Director Lissiri," Hobbie said, forcing a smile. "What an unexpected surprise. What can I do for you?"

"Where's Skywalker?" she demanded tersely.

"Out, doing Jedi stuff most likely. Now, I am more than equipped to handle any questions you may have, so how may I be of service?"

Lissiri responded by drawing her blaster and aiming it at his face. _Should have gone with the first option, _Hobbie said to himself dourly.

"I think you and your Rogue friends have done enough to 'help' me," Lissiri said sourly. "If Skywalker isn't here, I suppose I will have to use you as bait to fetch him."

Raising his hands, Hobbie slowly backed away from the door and allowed the Director to enter the living quarters. "If you're looking for bait, might I suggest Jade? That man is rather protective of his wife."

"I know they're not married; it's just another lie you've spread to undermine me," Lissiri snapped.

"Has anyone ever told you that this inferiority complex you have isn't very attractive?"

He saw her finger tense against the trigger. Best not to try that line again. "Just _how _have we been undermining you, Lissiri?"

"It would have been easy enough to keep the Jedi occupied," she spat, her fingers flexing around the handle of the blaster. "But their damn Rogue bodyguards kept getting in my way, digging in places they shouldn't have been."

Hobbie's eyes narrowed. "If you think Luke wouldn't have found out what you were up to without us, you're sadly mistaken. Though, I'm happy to hear that you've finally come around and are respecting what my squadron is capable of. Tell me, Valara, just who is it that paid you off to sabotage negotiations between your planet and the Republic? I have my guesses."

"Who am I to say no to ten lifetimes worth of credits and an officer's commission in the Imperial Navy?" Lissiri said with a tight smile. Her grip on the blaster seemed to relax somewhat.

"Being an Imperial officer is highly overrated, trust me on this one sweetie," Hobbie said. "So, where are you going to be taking me? I do hope there's a mini-bar there."

"One of our high security cells should suffice. I think I've learned to not give your people any sort of leeway."

"So no mini-bar?" Hobbie asked. "That's too bad."

Before Lissiri had the chance to even blink, Hobbie lunged forward and grabbed her arm, wrenching the blaster from her hand and throwing her to the ground. Just as he was about to pat himself on the back for his quick reflexes, the Security Director recovered and kicked his legs out from under him. In a flash, she was on her hands and knees, scrambling for her blaster. Hobbie quickly followed suit, throwing his hand out and grasping for the weapon just before she could reach it. He scrambled to his feet, but Lissiri was already upright and racing towards him.

He could have used the blaster and shot her, but what if it wasn't set to stun? Hobbie didn't want to kill her. This time there was only option.

Spinning the weapon in his hand and grasping the nozzle, Hobbie sidestepped Lissiri's charge and swung, clubbing her behind the neck with the handle. She collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap.

"Well," Hobbie said to himself as he tried to catch his breath, "you've _almost _got enough respect for us."

* * *

><p>"Run faster, Horn!" Mara yelled, practically running him over as they hurried up the stairs. Luke was several steps in front of them, using the Force to augment his speed. Their lightsabers were out and ignited. Corran could sense that Hobbie was in very big trouble.<p>

Finally they burst onto their floor and rushed down the hallway. The hotel room door was locked, but Luke used the Force to blow it in, and the three of them barreled inside, lightsabers blazing, ready to rescue their friend.

Hobbie was sitting on the couch when the door to his hotel room slammed open. He looked up from his datapad.

Luke, Mara, and Corran stood incredulously in the living area, staring at him in disbelief.

"Hey guys," he said casually. "What's going on?"

Luke stepped forward, staring at Valara Lissiri, who was lying bound, gagged, and unconscious on the floor. "Hobbie! You…you're safe!"

"Of course I am. What, you think I couldn't take care of myself?" Hobbie twisted his blaster and blew on the handle. "Come on, Luke—you should know that the Rogues can take care of themselves."

Mara stepped forward and patted Luke on the shoulder, reaching around to deactivate his lightsaber. "Yeah, you should know that, _Rogue Leader_."

"Hey, you were worried, too!" Luke countered.

"Yeah, but not because Hobbie can't use the Force! I was just showing concern for a friend."

"Sure, whatever, Mara—"

"Hey! I appreciate the concern, but I think we have bigger worries right now." Hobbie took a deep breath and stood up. "The Empire's on its way."

Luke nodded. "Yes, we know, Murray told us."

At that moment, Corran's comlink began to buzz.

Hobbie couldn't help himself. He placed his head in his hands and muttered, "Oh, I have a bad feeling about this."


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

With a heavy sigh, Corran took his comlink off his belt. He clicked it on and turned up the volume so the others could hear. "Horn."

"It's Wedge. Is everything alright there? Where's Hobbie?"

"Don't worry, we're all fine. Hobbie _took care _of Lissiri."

"Really?" The surprise in Wedge's voice was obvious. "She's not dead, is she? I'd hate to have to deal with all that paperwork."

"No, she's not dead!" Hobbie yelled exasperatedly.

"Good," Wedge replied. "Corran, I need you, Hobbie, and Luke at the safehouse immediately."

Luke furrowed his brow. "Me?"

"Yes. We need you to fly Rusarian's X-wing; he's still out of commission. What do you say, old boss—you up for some cockpit time?"

Luke grinned. "Oh, I'm more than up for it."

Mara, who had been following this exchange with interest, pulled the comlink towards her mouth. "Antilles, you better have a spare ship for me! I'm itching to get some action."

Corran grinned wickedly. "Yeah, I'll bet you are—"

Wedge's voice cut him off before Mara had the chance to smack him again. "Sorry, Mara. We need you to stay in the capital—"

"But—!"

"—Because if our information is correct, Lissiri's agents are heading towards the state house to apprehend Ambassador Gemar and force him to surrender to the Empire. Karrde is on his way there to meet you."

"Well, I guess shooting some PloSec goons will have to do," Mara said, feigning disappointment.

"I will accompany you, Captain Jade!" Murray exclaimed, barreling into the room behind them.

"Who's that?" Wedge asked through the comlink.

"Murray Dyartes, Lissiri's assistant," Corran answered.

Murray grinned. "Not anymore, I'm not!"

"Mr. Dyartes, would you be able to contact any Ploomian Security officers not under Lissiri's influence who can help defend Ambassador Gemar?" Wedge asked.

"Oh certainly, General Antilles! Many of my officer friends greatly dislike Director Lissiri. They will certainly help fight against her rogue agents."

"It's settled, then. Corran, Hobbie, Luke—get your butts over here right now. Antilles out."

"Jedi Horn, I would be honored if you would take my speeder to your safehouse," Murray offered.

Corran nodded in appreciation. The three pilots began to head out the door. Mara cleared her throat. "What are we gonna do with her?" she asked, pointing at Lissiri.

"I'll take her with us," Corran said, heaving the director's limp body over his shoulder.

Once in the lobby, the three pilots bid farewell to Mara and Murray before heading towards Murray speeder. Luke turned back around after a few steps. "Mara?" he called.

The redhead cocked a brow at her former Jedi master.

He saluted her with two fingers. "May the Force be with you."

Mara's lips curled into a small smile and she rolled her eyes. "Same to you, Skywalker."

"Hey, what about me?" Corran whined.

"Yeah, you too. Whatever."

* * *

><p>It was a good day for a hostile takeover.<p>

General Turr Phennir stared through the forward viewport of his Star Destroyer's bridge, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. His morning had already gone exceptionally well. The mess had served a halfway palatable breakfast, the repair technicians had finally gotten around to fixing his sanisteam, and his caf actually tasted like caf and not its usual flavor of 'burnt hydraulic fluid.' Yes, Turr could feel it in his bones. It was going to be a good day.

"Reverting to real-space in one minute, General," an officer seated below him said.

"Excellent," Turr said. "As soon as we're out, open a wide-band hailing frequency."

Before long, the molten black and blue tunnel of hyperspace yielded to streaks of white light as the Star Destroyer reverted to realspace. Ahead of them was the isolated, backwater world known as Plooma, a world rich in a vital asset that both the Rebels and the Empire desired. A grim smile formed on his lips. Those Rebel scum would have to find a new place to gain those resources, for now it was possession of the Galactic Empire.

"Hailing band open, sir," the officer said.

Standing a bit more upright, Turr addressed anyone on the planet who might be listening. "Attention Ploomian officials. By order of the Galactic Empire, I am hereby seizing control of this world and placing it under direct control and jurisdiction of the Imperial government. You have twelve standard hours to stand down and cede control to me."

"Sir, we've got a response from on-world," the communication officer said.

Turr blinked. "That was quick. Put it on the holo."

The holodisplay in front of him flickered to life and the image of an all-too familiar and all-too notorious Corellian appeared.

"Hello, you've reached General Wedge Antilles, speaking on behalf of the Republic and the Ploomian government," the smiling Rebel said. "We would like you to know that we have come to a decision."

Turr suppressed a sneer. Five years ago, he had faced off against Wedge Antilles and his band of Rebel pilots on the world of Adumar. Antilles had foiled his plans that day, and Turr wasn't going to let it happen again.

"And what would that be?" Turr asked through clenched teeth.

The Rebel flashed a rather unflattering hand gesture. "Go kriff yourself. Antilles out."

Before he could respond, the feed cut off. Turr gave himself a few moments to let his blood cool before he calmly turned to face his executive officer. "Tell Gamma Squadron to prepare for immediate scramble," he said. "I want that smug son-of-a-schutta to float through space as debris for all of eternity."

"Yes, sir."

Just like that, Turr Phennir's good mood evaporated.

* * *

><p>Talon Karrde flexed his fingers around the handle of his blaster and wondered how exactly he had gotten into this mess. It wasn't long before he settled on the day he hired Mara Jade. Before that point, he had been a simple information broker making a more-than-modest living. After hiring Mara? He couldn't help but notice that he suddenly found himself getting into more and more blaster fights.<p>

In the next few minutes, he'd be notching yet another one.

Locked in the secured room behind him was Ambassador Gemar and a pair of state house guards. Other armed guards were perched around the hallway, blasters armed and ready. Beside Karrde were Fiolla and Murray. The former aide to Director Lissiri appeared somewhat calm on the surface, but his eyes betrayed an undercurrent of anxiety. Fiolla, however, was another case entirely. The girl was merely excited that someone had given her a hand blaster to hold on to. Karrde made a mental note to stand behind Fiolla. Just in case.

He looked over his shoulder as the door behind him slid open and Mara emerged. "Everything secure?" Karrde asked.

"Locked down tight," Mara confirmed, "but we're about to have company. Scouts on the roof spotted about a dozen men in PloSec uniforms about to enter the building. They should be on us any moment."

"I assure you, I am ready to fight, Captain Jade," Murray said confidently. Or at least, as confidently as someone as green behind the ears as he was could manage.

Fiolla raised up her blaster, pointing it at Mara. "Am I holding this right?"

Mara flinched and grabbed the barrel of the blaster, pointing it away from her. "Fine. Just fine. But be sure to point that only at the people you want dead."

Just as Karrde was about to laugh, an explosion from the far end of the hallway went off. A pair of state house guards were knocked backwards. Before he could even raise his weapon, blaster fire began to fill the area. Dropping to a knee, Karrde steady his weapon and lined the sights on the first PloSec officer to step through the breached entry. He squeezed the trigger once, sending a single red bolt into the intruder's chest, dropping him immediately.

By this point the other state house guards had recovered from the shock and were laying down suppression fire to hold Lissiri's men at bay. A moment later a loud _snap-hiss _filled the air as Mara thumbed on her lightsaber, darting into the scrum to lay down a bit of her own brand of chaos. In the back of his mind, Karrde realized that having both Mara and her lightsaber back in his organization could be rather beneficial.

He watched as she sliced through a rushing PloSec officer. _Definitely_ beneficial.

Then again, Karrde didn't seem to get into this kind of trouble that often when Mara wasn't around. Perhaps the benefits were canceled out by the risks.

A blaster bolt that just missed his head caused Karrde to press his back against the wall. "I'm getting too old for this," he muttered to himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the final two PloSec officers emerging from the blast opening and racing towards Mara. Just as he brought up his blaster to fire, a pair of shots from beside him rang into the air, catching one officer in the stomach and the other square between the eyes. Karrde turned and saw Fiolla, blaster still raised despite the fact the last of the invaders had been felled.

"Did I do that right?" Fiolla asked timidly.

Karrde looked back at Mara, who stared back at the girl somewhat slack-jawed.

"I am definitely getting too old for this _poodoo_," he repeated to himself.

* * *

><p>A blue milk run, Cracken said. There probably wasn't anything to worry about, he insisted. Now the Empire was involved, and Turr Phennir, one of Wedge's least favorite people in the galaxy, was leading the attack. When had they given him control of a Star Destroyer? Wedge shook his head. As soon as he was back on Coruscant, he was going to be sure to give the NRI director a piece of his mind, and this time he wasn't going to let his wife stop him. Well, he probably wasn't going to let his wife stop him.<p>

Maybe.

"You know, it's been a little while since I've flown combat," Luke's voice said over the subspace radio.

Wedge grinned and adjusted his helmet-mounted microphone. "It's like getting back on a speeder bike. No matter how long it's been, you never forget."

"Except the speeder bike wasn't equipped with four rather lethal laser cannons, six proton torpedoes, a shield generator, an astromech droid, and a complete avionics package."

"Well now you're just getting nit-picky," Wedge said. "Remind me to write you up for insubordination when we're done saving the galaxy again."

"Whatever you say, boss."

Quickly, Wedge went through his power-on sequence, firing up the repulsorlift jets and bringing the quad sublight engines online. As he methodically went down the mental checklist that had been burned into his mind over the years, he conferred with his squadron members over the radio, ensuring they were all set to go. If any of them were nervous, he couldn't hear it in their voices. This batch of Rogues were a fine bunch of pilots, of course that was true of every Rogue he had had on his roster over the years. Well, perhaps exempting the one kid from Nar Shaddaa…

The moment he was sure that his X-wing was ready for flight, he kicked the repulsorlifts to life and felt his starfighter slowly lurch off the ground. Recalling the landing struts, Wedge pulled back on the flightstick and aimed the nose of his ship towards the sky. "Rogues," he said, "it's going to get hot in a hurry up there. You are clear to immediately break off by wingpairs. First order of business is to clear the fighter screen, but our primary goal is to chase off that Star Destroyer. Everybody clear?"

His pilots acknowledged the order. "Good. May the Force be with you," Wedge said. "Twelve, on my wing."

"Acknowledged, One," Luke responded.

Someday, they would look back and laugh about this wingpair assignment. It was more than a little strange to have the former Rogue Squadron commanding officer and Jedi master flying as his subordinate for this mission. Normally the CO's wingman was the weakest or youngest pilot in the squadron. Until a few days earlier, that had been true. Flight Officer Rusarian had been Wedge's wingman, which allowed him to keep a close eye on the greenhorn and ensure the young pilot's survival. With Rusarian currently floating in a bacta tank aboard the medical frigate _Redemption_, that meant Luke would be slotted into that wing pairing.

Shaking his head, Wedge gave the order to commence the operation and set his X-Wing's throttle to full. The ground gave way to the thick cloud layer, which yielded to blue sky before finally shifting into the harsh, black tone of open space. Almost immediately his sensor board began to light up. A dozen contacts approaching them, nimble and deadly TIE Interceptors. Beyond that screen was the imposing sight of an Imperial Class II Star Destroyer. Steeling himself, Wedge braced for combat.

"S-foils to attack position," he ordered. "Weapons free, weapons free."

Flipping a lever on the console, a hydraulic whirring filled his cockpit as the strike foils on his starfighter locked into the distinct _X _shape. Moments later, the firefight swung into full.

Wedge cycled through his target computer and selected the closest target, breaking away from the rest of the Rogue Squadron formation to begin his pursuit. A brief glance at his scanners showed that Luke had deftly followed suit, showing that his military upbringing hadn't quite rusted away. Looking forward once more, Wedge saw that his target was flanked by another Interceptor. "I've got the one riding high, you take the trailer. On my mark, bracket low and engage."

On his signal, Wedge split off from Luke and chased after his target. His first volley of fire at the Interceptor missed just high, causing the Imperial starfighter to go into an evasive flight pattern. Wedge pulled back on the flightstick hard, just managing to turn around and keep aft of the Interceptor in his viewport. He continued to make small adjustments to his course, feathering the etheric rudder pedals in an attempt to line up his targeting brackets, but it was no easy task. In hard vacuum, the TIE Interceptor was a far more agile ship than an X-Wing.

But Wedge was the superior pilot, and piloting skills ultimately were what would win the day.

Taking a gamble, Wedge guessed at the enemy pilot's next move. He nudged the flightstick down and to starboard. Just as he suspected, the TIE pilot moved in that direction. Without a second thought, Wedge squeezed the trigger. Two pairs of bright, crimson laser bursts soared towards the Interceptor and struck right in the center of the round hull, igniting the ion engine core and setting off a chain reaction that left the ship as little more than an explosion of gas and charred shrapnel.

"Got 'em!" Luke shouted.

"You just now got him?" Wes voice sounded over the radio. "Fifteen years ago you would have had three by now!"

"Kill the chatter, children," Wedge chided. He looked at his scanner just as the last TIE Interceptor disappeared off of the display. Twelve friendly, green blips remained. He breathed a sigh of relief. "We've got a clear path in to the Star Destroyer. We are only going to get one shot at this and we're going to have to get close, so watch for flak and crossfire and target the bridge. Unload every torpedo you've got."

"You know, it's been a while since I've tangoed with a Star Destroyer," Corran said.

"Fleeing from old Booster doesn't count," Inyri Forge responded.

Shaking his head, Wedge switched his fire control to proton torpedoes and shunted power away from his laser batteries to his deflector shields and engines. He fell into formation a quarter-klik or so behind Luke's X-Wing, allowing the Jedi to take the lead while he waited for his targeting computer to work out a firing solution on the Star Destroyer's bridge. Before long, emerald laser fire from the large capital ship's guns began to fill his forward viewscreen.

For the briefest of moments, Wedge felt a bit of nostalgia. Over a decade ago he and Luke had made names for themselves racing into situations like these, somehow finding ways to survive against all odds. They had been younger then. Perhaps a bit more reckless, or if he were to be honest, a great deal more reckless. Yet, here they were, fifteen years later and flying right into the teeth of an Imperial Star Destroyer.

Some things never changed.

A harsh trill from his targeting computer alerted Wedge that a lock had been achieved. Transmitting the solution ahead to Luke, he lined up his brackets and squeezed the trigger. Six blue streaks sailed forward and towards the Star Destroyer, followed by six more from Luke. He didn't wait to see if they impacted or not, pulling away from the run and putting some distance between himself and the menacing starship. Over the radio, the other Rogues reported as their ordinance was fired.

Looking over his shoulder and through the aft viewscreen, Wedge watched as the final volley of proton torpedoes punched through the shields and impacted the bridge. In the distance, he could make out flame and venting gas. Slowly, the Star Destroyer began to shift out of its parked orbit over Plooma, turning its aft to the planet before lurching away. A moment later, it vanished into the safer confines of hyperspace.

"That'll teach them to mess with the Rogues," Wedge said. "Everybody okay?"

One by one his pilots reported back with an affirmative. Smiling, Wedge gently turned his X-wing around to face Plooma's atmosphere. _I'd say we've earned a solid hazard pay bonus, _he said to himself.

"Just like old times, huh One?" Luke said over the radio.

"Someday, you and I will have to retire so we can relive our youthful adventures without having to climb into the cockpit," Wedge replied. "I'm thinking next time we do this, it'll be over a bottle of Lomin."

"I'll hold you to that, boss."

* * *

><p>Rogue Squadron, the New Republic delegation, and the Ploomian diplomats were crowded into a large briefing room at the state house. As soon as Turr Phennir's forces were defeated, Ambassador Gemar authorized an alliance between Plooma and the New Republic. Gemar requested that Rogue Squadron attend the signing of the treaty, as they had helped save Plooma from the oppressive rule of the Imperial Remnant.<p>

Luke and Gemar signed the official documents to loud cheers, and then the real celebration began. Somehow large trays of food and drinks had been brought into the briefing room, and the gathering had grown into a full-blown party.

Karrde was standing to the side of the room with Mara, who was doing her best to avoid talking to anyone. "Credit for your thoughts, Mara?"

"Oh, they're worth much more than that, Karrde."

"Indeed. Speaking of, have we discussed your new salary once you come back to the _Wild Karrde_?"

"Yeah, nice try. But you're not going to win our little bet."

"Oh, I'm not worried. There's still several more hours left."

She rolled her eyes. "Keep dreaming."

Karrde grinned. It was cutting close, but he still had faith in his victory. He had taken note of the rare peaceful moments between Luke and Mara over the past two weeks, and there was definitely something deeper going on between them than the constant bickering witnessed by everyone else in the galaxy. Even back when Mara still wanted to kill Luke, they'd worked better together than most of Karrde's associates.

And then there had been that night in the speeder…oh, it was _so _obvious that the two were meant to be. Yes, Karrde still had hope that he would emerge from this trip the victor.

As the thought went through his mind, Murray Dyartes approached them hesitantly. "Excuse me, Captain Jade? May I speak with you privately?"

Mara glanced at Karrde, and he shrugged in return. "Sure, Murray. Talk to you later, Karrde."

* * *

><p>The young Ploomian Security intern was nervous. Very nervous. He had proven himself to Captain Jade and the rest of the New Republic diplomats over the past two weeks, but he had never before broached the subject of her personal life. He feared that she would hurt him. Judging from the biographies he had read about her, his worry wasn't that farfetched.<p>

She was certainly very beautiful, but she was also very deadly.

"What's wrong, Murray?" Captain Jade asked. Murray reminded himself that she could use the Force, even if she wasn't a Jedi, and he needed to be honest with her.

He took a deep breath. "When I was tracking Director Lissiri, I discovered some information that concerned me. I felt I should ask you about it."

"Go on."

"Um…it appears that you and Master Skywalker are not married, as you claim to be."

Captain Jade sighed. "Yes, it's true. We aren't married."

"But…why did you lie?" Murray asked in a small voice, feeling betrayed.

"We didn't mean to betray anyone," she explained. "It was all a big misunderstanding. Our Intelligence division's report was interpreted the wrong way by your agents. Once we arrived, it was decided that it would be best if Luke and I pretended that we were married, so your delegation wouldn't think that all of the information we provided was incorrect. We wanted to make a good impression. Looking back, I realize that we should have just come clean from the very the beginning."

"No," Murray said, shaking his head. "You were probably correct to pretend. If Director Lissiri had learned that your information was even somewhat inaccurate, she would have used that against you. It would have been disastrous."

"That's probably true," Captain Jade said. "So I guess everything worked out in the end. But I'm still really sorry for lying to you, Murray. You're a decent and competent young man. You'll go far in Ploomian Security."

Murray felt redness spreading across his cheeks at her commendation. He had never before been complimented by such a beautiful woman. A week ago, he would have been overjoyed to learn that Captain Jade was not actually married to Master Skywalker—not that he would have ever believed that he would have a chance with such an amazing woman. But now, he was just confused by her confession.

"Thank you, Captain Jade. But, I am confused, and I have to ask…why _aren't_ you married to Master Skywalker?"

Captain Jade's jaw clenched tightly and her eyes flashed. "Excuse me?"

Murray took a deep breath, forcing himself to continue even though he was beginning to fear her wrath. "I don't understand why you are not married. You work very well together."

For some unknown reason, Captain Jade began to shift uncomfortably. "Yeah, maybe we do…but we're just friends. Acquaintances, even. That's all."

"But he cares for you deeply."

Now Captain Jade's eyes grew as wide as saucers. _"What?"_

"It is obvious just by watching the two of you. He cares for you very deeply."

She waved her hand dismissively. "That doesn't mean anything. That's just the way he is."

"I disagree. He does not act that way with the others."

"Yeah, well. Thanks for the advice Murray, but I have to go."

She turned away abruptly, and Murray began to worry that he had offended her. "Captain Jade!" She stopped and faced him again, her face still red and expression very uncomfortable. "I am sorry if I overstepped my bounds. I was just curious."

"Don't worry about it."

"Do you not feel the same way about him, Captain Jade?"

She paused for a moment, then turned her head slightly. Murray followed her gaze to where Master Skywalker was conversing with General Antilles. As if he sensed her looking at him, Master Skywalker turned slightly in their direction. The couple's eyes locked for a long moment.

"No, I don't," Mara said abruptly. She shook her head vigorously. "And neither does he."

She bid Murray another farewell, before heading off in Master Skywalker's direction.

* * *

><p>Wedge grimaced when he saw Mara walking towards him, looking murderous as ever. But instead of yelling or causing a scene when she reached them, she merely held out her hand. "I'm heading back to my room. I just wanted to thank you for everything before I left tomorrow. You're a superior commanding officer."<p>

Wedge could have pinched himself. Mara Jade was being complimentary? They had just won a battle against the Empire, and Hobbie hadn't even gotten injured? Luke had actually flown with Rogue Squadron again?

Would wonders never cease?

Graciously, he shook her hand. "Thank you, Mara. You did very well yourself."

"It's always my pleasure to rough up lame Imperial wannabes." She turned and gave Luke a curt nod. "Skywalker. See you upstairs."

"Mara, wait!" She turned back, raising a brow in question. "Would you…would you like to go to dinner?"

Her brow went even higher. "With you?"

He nodded, shifting nervously, looking very awkward but also eager. "Yeah."

"We've got food right here, Skywalker."

"I know. I just thought it would be nice. You know, for old times sake." He smiled.

Wedge thought Mara was going to reach out and snap Luke's neck—but instead, she just shrugged and returned his smile. "Sure, why not. Let's go, husband."

Wedge watched the two of them walk away arm in arm, shaking his head the entire time. A few minutes later, Wes sidled up to him with an all too familiar expression upon his face.

"Oh no," Wedge groaned. "What have you done now?"

"Me?" Wes feigned innocence. "Oh, my dear general. It is not _I _who has done anything this time."

"What's going on?" Wedge demanded, clearly not in the mood for more Rogue Squadron hijinks.

Wes grinned. "Tell me, have you seen Hobbie around lately?"

Wedge opened his mouth to respond—but then he glanced around the room and realized that Hobbie was nowhere to be found. He groaned again. "Now what trouble has that man gotten himself into?"

"Oh, no trouble at all, General. Well, not if you don't count the rumor-spreading that's bound to occur within Starfighter Command once word of this gets out."

"Word of _what_, Janson?"

Wes wiggled his eyebrows. "Hobbie's with a girl," he replied in a singsong voice.

_"What?"_

* * *

><p>Hobbie stared at the ceiling in almost disbelief. Things like this never happened to him. <em>Ever.<em>

Women had always seemed to go for Wedge (they'd said it was the wanted poster). Or Tycho (he had always been the most handsome of the bunch, no matter what Wes claimed). Or Luke, back in the early days. You couldn't even have a conversation with a woman when the destroyer of the Death Star was nearby.

In later years, Hobbie had become accustomed to women ignoring him. Okay, so he wasn't _that_ pitiful, and had managed to bed a fair share of women during his time in Rogue Squadron. Especially after all the others had gotten married. But he had always come on to them first.

Apparently things happened differently on Plooma.

His female companion returned from the fresher and climbed back into bed, sidling up to him sinuously. "_That_…was wonderful!" she exclaimed.

Hobbie grinned. "So. Has your opinion of us lowly non-Force users improved?"

Fiolla Flotto returned the grin tenfold. "Oh, yes! But then again, my opinion about you changed long ago, Major Klivian."

He laughed and pulled her against him, kissing her soundly. She settled into the crook of his arm and he couldn't help but wonder what the rest of the Rogues would say when they found out about this. Surely they wouldn't believe that he would have ended up in bed with Fiolla of all people…but Hobbie didn't blame him, as he would never have believed that Fiolla could be such a _stimulating_ woman.

Just as Hobbie was starting to feel awfully smug, Fiolla's next words brought him crashing back to ground. "You know, I had told myself that something like this could never happen. I thought you were with the other gentleman."

Hobbie opened his mouth a few times, and there was only one thing he could think of to say: "…What?"

"Jedi Horn. I thought the two of you were together."

Hobbie shook his head, disgusted. "Ugh! That is quite possibly the most horrible thing I've ever heard! _Why _would you think that?"

"Well, you two are staying in the same hotel room. I thought that you were a couple, like Master Skywalker and Captain Jade. Of course, I am now aware that none of you are together romantically, but you can understand my concerns. And then at the ball, Jedi Horn kept interrupting our conversation. I thought it was because he was jealous. But then I learned that he has a wife and children, so I knew that there was nothing going on between the two of you!"

For a moment, all Hobbie could think about was how he was going to kill Corran when they got back to Coruscant…but then the implications of Fiolla's words hit him and he was gripped with the most horrifying images of his life. "Oh gods," he groaned. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"I'm sorry. Is it something I said?" Fiolla asked, even now, still perpetually confused.

"Yes. You need to fix that. Right now," Hobbie growled.

He pulled her to him, and he spent the rest of the night trying to get the horrific, terrifying images of Corran Horn out of his mind.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

On the New Republic delegation's final day on Plooma, Talon Karrde settled into the small briefing room where they would prepare for the gala closing festivities. He nodded briefly at Fiolla, who had already taken a seat across from him, and Hobbie, who sat next to her. Karrde made a mental note to figure out what that was about later. One of the attendants came by with some caf, which he accepted gratefully while perusing through some documents on his datapad. He was so focused on a new shipping agreement that he didn't notice Mara enter the room until she flopped into the chair next to him and practically threw a folder full of flimsiplast sheets on the table.

Karrde slowly glanced over at his former second-in-command. She stared straight ahead, looking angry, confused, and tired.

Very tired.

Even though he already had a good idea of what was inside, Karrde opened the folder and began scanning the documents. "Ah," he remarked as he recognized the contents.

"Ah yourself," Mara snapped.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are these what I think they are?"

"You can read, can't you?"

Oh, she certainly was in fine sarcastic form this morning.

"Then I'm right—these are employment contracts?"

"Yes."

"So this means you're coming back to work for me?"

"Yes! You won our little bet. Happy now?"

Karrde grinned, unable to resist poking the nest a bit more. "Well. What made you change your mind about Luke, Mara? Last time I checked, you still couldn't stand him."

The redhead's face turned as scarlet as her hair. "It's none of your damn business. Now shut up!" she hissed, just as Luke cheerfully sauntered into the room and took the seat next to her. Despite the bags under his eyes, he seemed upbeat and...somehow different.

Karrde chuckled, knowing exactly why Mara did not want to continue their conversation. Luke, however, picked up on their exchange and decided to interject. "Good morning, Karrde. Mara. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Mara said shortly.

"Oh, your wife was just returning some employment contracts," Karrde spoke over her, eliciting a sharp jab in the ribs. "She finally caved and decided to come back to her rightful place amongst my organization."

"Really?" Luke propped his chin on his palm. "That's...interesting. How come you're going back to work for Karrde, Mara? I thought you were happy being an independent?"

She glared at him. "Stay out of my head, Skywalker."

"Oh, now that's not a nice way to talk to your husband."

Mara ignored him, pretending to be engrossed in whatever she was reading on her datapad.

Luke began spinning in his chair, a self-confident smirk on his lips. He leaned in so the others in the room wouldn't hear him. "So I guess it's not that bad being married to me after all, huh?"

Karrde sputtered and caf flew across the table, hitting Fiolla in the face. He grimaced in apology, but she just wiped the beverage from her skin with her scarf and began sniffing it intently. He barely had the time to ponder her actions before the explosion erupted from his left.

"What the _hell_ did you just say, Skywalker?"

The smirk did not leave Luke's face as he continued to whisper. "You're going back to work for Karrde. That means you admit that you enjoyed being married to me and, therefore, he won your bet. Now, I have to say that I'm _very _proud of you for admitting to that fact, without me even having to 'butt into your mind'! That shows great character, honesty, and nobility on your part. Very Jedi-like."

Karrde would not have been surprised if he saw steam come out of Mara's ears. She turned slowly to Karrde, then back to Luke, as a look of realization came across her face.

"You _knew!_" she snarled at Luke.

"About the bet? Yes, I have to admit that I did."

"You...you...you little nerfherder! _That's _why you've been so damned nice to me! You were in on this bet from the start!"

"Actually, Mara—"

She whirled around and pointed her finger in Karrde's face, cutting him off. "Oh, don't worry, I'll deal with you later—_boss!_ But for now—" She turned back to Luke, who still had the same shavit-eating grin on his face. "—You are _dead_."

"Ah, that's an empty threat coming from you," Luke teased, and Karrde once again burst out laughing. Letting out a frustrated growl, Mara gathered her belongings and stomped to the chair on the other side of Karrde. Luke met Karrde's eye and shrugged, then got up to sit on the other side of Mara, once again blocking her in between the two men. "Look, yes, I knew about the bet. Karrde reminded me of several unpaid favors I owed him, so when he arrived and asked me to help him out here, well...I just couldn't help myself." He shrugged sheepishly.

Mara snatched the folder from the table and smacked Luke hard on the arm. Luke didn't flinch. He calmly took the folder from her grasp and passed it back over to Karrde. "I have to admit, though, that the bet wasn't the _only _reason I acted the way I did. It hurt my pride a bit, that you were so put off at the prospect of pretending to be with me. So I wanted to prove myself to you."

"And just what does my opinion on such things matter to you, Skywalker?" she asked dismissively.

Luke sighed heavily, turning away from Mara to study his datapad, suddenly forlorn. "I think you know that it matters very much, Jade."

Mara watched him for a moment; then she rolled her eyes and abruptly pushed herself from the table, mumbling something about the refresher and that she was expecting a hefty raise when she got back to the _Wild Karrde_. Karrde chuckled, then grew serious as Luke raised his gaze to watch Mara leave the room. As soon as she was gone, the Jedi Master glanced at Karrde, before quickly looking away.

"Admit it, Luke," Karrde said, as the younger man began to read his datapad.

"Admit what?" Luke replied, not looking back at the information broker.

Karrde leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "You enjoyed being married to her, too."

Luke didn't respond. He just leaned back in his chair and gazed off into the distance.

* * *

><p>The New Republic delegation was mulling about the spaceport, saying good-bye.<p>

Corran was very grateful that the mission was over; after all, getting shot at by Imperials was never very fun. Plus, he missed his children. And Mirax.

He smiled to himself as he glanced over at the _Pulsar Skate_, eagerly anticipating the reunion with his wife.

But for now, it was time to say good-bye to Mara. She was leaving the planet with Karrde, since he had somehow suckered her into working for his organization again. Corran hadn't been able to get that story out of her; in fact, she'd threatened to kill him when he had dared to ask.

"See you later, Klivian," Mara said, giving Hobbie a polite handshake. "Thanks for knocking some sense into me."

Hobbie grinned. "My pleasure. Have a good trip, Mara."

"You too." She then turned to Corran with raised eyebrows. "So. I guess this is good-bye, Horn."

He pulled her into a dramatic hug, then held her at arm's length. "Yes. Now, try to calm yourself; I know that parting is such sweet sorrow, but I am sure we will see each other again soon."

"Oh, shut up. And tell your wife I'll be on Coruscant in a month. I expect her to buy me some drinks as payment for putting up with you for two weeks."

Corran laughed and glanced at Luke. "Hey, didn't we once agree to never let the two of them meet?"

Luke nodded, looking somewhat melancholy. "Yeah. I remember that."

The pretend husband and wife shifted awkwardly for a few moments. Then Luke suddenly grabbed Mara's arm and pulled her away from the others.

"Why does he have to do that?" Corran whined.

"Oh, I wonder why," Hobbie replied drily.

Corran waved his hand, silencing the other pilot. He closed his eyes and reached out into the Force, but couldn't hear anything. Luke must have been blocking him. Admitting defeat, he opened his eyes and watched the two say good-bye. Luke placed his hand on Mara's shoulder and it looked like he was trying to convince her of something, but she was having none of it. Trying to convince her to go back to the Academy? Corran rolled his eyes. Luke was definitely persistent.

Mara shook her head vigorously and turned away, the expression on her face not betraying any sort of emotion. She began to cross the spaceport towards the shuttle where Karrde was waiting.

"Hey Mara?" Luke called, stopping her in her tracks. She turned around and gave him a curious look.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I was just wondering...about the Academy..."

Mara held out a hand. "I thought we agreed, remember? No more Jedi talk."

"What? ...Oh, no! No, that's not what I meant," Luke replied, shaking his head.

Corran watched them, confused. If they hadn't just been talking about Mara returning to the Academy, what _had_ they been talking about? Could they possibly have been discussing their crazy relationship? His hopes began to rise...then Luke stepped closer to Mara, and he took her hand in his...

"That first time you decided to leave the Academy," he said softly. "Was that because of the lightsaber incident?"

Corran's eyes widened. Oh, _kriff._

For a moment, there was pure, absolute, horrifying stillness. Then, all at once, Luke's eyes flashed wickedly, Hobbie keeled over in laughter, and Mara turned around slowly, glaring vibroblades at Corran. His life flashed before his eyes: his time in CorSec, liberating Coruscant with the Rogues, his dear wife, learning to be a Jedi, the birth of his two children.

Unable to move, Corran stared in fear at the woman whose hand was creeping dangerously towards her lightsaber. "That's it," she snarled. She turned to Luke. "Tell Mirax I am very sorry, but I was forced to murder her husband."

The Jedi Master nodded solemnly. "I'm sure she will understand."

Corran's eyes widened in absolute fear as Mara began advancing on him. He backed up as quickly as he could, trying to calm her down as he moved. "Mara, come on now, it was just a joke! I didn't tell him anything, I swear! ...Oh, _shavit_!" He turned and bolted across the spaceport.

Mara was only a few steps behind him, her blue blade already ignited at her side.

* * *

><p>Hobbie and Luke watched them in laughter, coughing to catch their breath. <em>Now this is much more entertaining than watching Luke and Mara fight<em>, Hobbie mused.

_"YOU ARE A DEAD MAN, HORN!"_

_"MIRAX! OPEN UP THE SHIP! MARA'S TRYING TO KILL ME! SHE'S SERIOUS, THIS TIME!"_

_"TRUST ME, SHE'LL UNDERSTAND! NOW STOP RUNNING SO I CAN FINALLY FIND OUT WHAT'S IN BETWEEN THAT THICK SKULL OF YOURS!"_

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Hobbie asked.

Luke shrugged innocently. "Possibly."

"I thought a Jedi was above revenge?"

"We are," Luke agreed. "But, as she always points out, Mara isn't a Jedi."

"Oooh. You're sneaky, old boss."

"I wasn't Rogue Leader for nothing."

Two blurs ran past them again.

_"COME ON MARA, THIS ISN'T FUNNY ANYMORE!"_

_"NO IT'S NOT, THIS IS DEADLY SERIOUS!"_

_"I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! I DIDN'T TELL LUKE ANYTHING, I SWEAR!"_

_"AND YOU NEVER WILL BECAUSE I'M GOING TO SLICE OUT YOUR INTESTINES AND GIVE THEM TO A MOOKA TO USE AS A PLAY TOY!"_

After a few more choice words, Hobbie sighed. "We should probably try to stop her now."

Luke nodded begrudgingly. "Yeah, we probably should. Corran may be armed and have the Force, but I doubt that will make much of a difference with her right now."

_"THE ONLY LIGHTSABER INCIDENT YOU'RE GOING TO BE CONCERNED WITH FROM NOW ON IS THE ONE THAT ENDS WITH MY BLADE SHOVED ALL THE WAY UP YOUR ASS!"_

Luke's face paled. "On second thought, I think I prefer to keep the rest of my limbs intact, don't you agree?"

"That sounds like a wonderful plan," Hobbie said.

Sharing a grin, the two pilots walked across the spaceport towards the _Pulsar Skate,_while the shouts of pain emanating from Corran Horn faded into the distance.

* * *

><p>Hobbie was ready to go home.<p>

Two weeks of dealing with two grown adults acting like children, a third encouraging the aforementioned pair to continue acting like children, getting shot at, flying combat, dealing with boring meetings, being paraded around like some sort of trophy, getting caught up in local government corruption, and having a lovely woman mistake him for Corran's boyfriend had gotten old in a hurry. Perhaps he should put in for some leave. Force knows he could use a vacation or two. A very long vacation or two that were far, far away from the Rogues, Cracken, Luke, Mara, and Corran.

Especially Corran.

Thankfully, Hobbie wouldn't be leaving Plooma the same way he had arrived, aboard the _Pulsar Skate _and trapped with the Jedi portion of the diplomatic contingent. This time he'd be leaving in his own personal, private X-Wing. He had been given the choice of departing on the much more spacious freighter, but Hobbie quickly declined. Even though Mara would be leaving the planet with Karrde, he still did not want to have to deal with Corran trying to find out what happened during Luke and Mara's final dinner or the both of them teasing him about his adventures with Fiolla. Never before had Hobbie been so happy to climb into the cramped confines of a starfighter cockpit and spend several long days in hyperspace. The utter silence would be wonderful.

"Are you getting in on the pool, Hobbs?" Wes asked from beside him.

"You're starting another pool?" Hobbie said, angling his arms into the sleeves of his bright orange flightsuit.

"Marriage pool," Wes confirmed as he pulled his head through the white flak jacket. "Luke and Jade."

Hobbie heaved a sigh. "Really, Wes?"

"Oh come on Hobbie, you know we have pools for everything. We've got marriage pools, when is this Rogue going to shack up with that Rogue pools, when is Darklighter going to next embarrass himself in front of the opposite gender pools, when is Wedge going to assign the new guy kitchen duty pools..."

"If Jade ever catches wind of this, we're all dead," Hobbie said, sealing the cuffs on his sleeves.

"A risk, I believe, we must take," Wes said. He shouted towards the other side of the changing room. "Pash! Luke and Jade marriage pool, how long?"

"What's the buy-in?" Pash asked from across the room.

"Two hundred credits."

"Put me down for five years."

Wes grinned and jotted the wager down on a sheet of flimsy. "Thank you, good sir," he said before turning his attention to another side of the room. "What says you, boss?"

Wedge poked his head out over a stack of crates. "Fifteen months."

"Fifteen months? A rather daring wager," Wes noted before turning to face Hobbie. "Now what can I put you down for, old friend?"

"I'm not indulging you this time," Hobbie replied.

"You're no fun anymore. Remember when you used to be fun?"

"I'm still fun," Hobbie protested, ensuring his life support vest was in place. "Fine, six years."

Before Wes could trap him into making a second bet in the pool, Hobbie slipped out of the changing room and made his way outside and towards the row of parked X-wings. He made a mental note to "accidentally" turn off his hypernet communications transponder so Wes couldn't bother him while in transit. Sighing to himself, Hobbie climbed the ladder mounted beside his X-wing and keyed the canopy release button.

Nothing happened.

Narrowing his eyes at the control panel and the transparisteel canopy that prevented him from achieving the isolation he so desired, Hobbie depressed the button once again. "Damn relay is broken again," he muttered under his breath. He would have to pull the manual release. Stepping onto the last rung of the ladder, he leaned over the canopy and stretched his arm towards the other side, grasping for the lever that would disengage the locking mechanism. Cursing, Hobbie stood on his tip-toes, trying to ignore the unnerving sensation of his balance point being extended a touch beyond what he knew was safe.

Finally, his fingers wrapped around the lever and he pulled back. A series of mechanical thuds signaled the lock had disengaged. Before Hobbie could pat himself on the back for his remarkable display of flexibility, his stomach lurched. The canopy lifted, with him on it. His hands flailed to try and find purchase, but it was already too late. The transparisteel frame lifted just enough to raise him fully off of the ladder and shift his weight beyond the point where mere friction would hold him to the hull of his X-wing.

Letting out a yelp, Hobbie fell to the ground below. A sickening crunch rang through his ears and a sharp pain coursed through his chest. He tried to breathe to calm himself, but that simple action only served to increase the blazing agony.

"Sithspit, Hobbie!" Wes yelled, suddenly appearing standing over him. "Didn't you learn in flight school that it's a long ways down from the cockpit?"

Hobbie could only groan. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Wedge standing over him, too.

"A few broken ribs if I had to wager a guess," Wedge said. "What a shame, you'd done so well to avoid getting yourself injured on this trip. No way you're flying now."

Another groan.

"I'll get on the comlink and see if Mirax is still here," Wedge continued. "I'm sure she can take you to the _Redemption _to get patched up before taking you, Luke, and Corran back to Coruscant. It should only be a two day trip."

This time, Hobbie only managed to whimper.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END...<strong>

**...or is it?**


	14. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

_Fifteen months later_

_Jade-Skywalker wedding_

In all, it was the perfect affair for Luke and Mara.

Hobbie knew that they would have rather tossed out the guest list (mostly to keep out well-wishers from the Senate; how Borsk Fey'lya was invited was beyond him), but they made the best of it. Seated nearest to them at the reception were their closest friends and family. To one side was Talon Karrde and several members of his smuggling ring. Hobbie couldn't help but notice that the information broker seemed to be enjoying the company of his new employee a good deal. To the other side were Luke's family and the Rogues, the entire squadron invited by Luke.

Brushing past a pair of senators he barely recognized, Hobbie made his way towards the table where the other Rogues were seated. Just as he was about to push past a crowd of onlookers that hadn't quite moved to their tables, a familiar voice called out to him.

"Major Klivian!" Fiolla Flotto said.

Hobbie turned to see the smiling girl hand-in-hand with another familiar face, Murray Dyartes. "Fiolla," Hobbie said, "what a surprise. I wasn't expecting to run into you."

"Master Skywalker invited certain members of the Senate to attend the reception," she explained. "As a show of goodwill."

Hobbie blinked. "I see…"

"I was elected as Plooma's Senate representative last month!" she said proudly.

"That's…" Hobbie could only manage to blink several times before finding words. "That's wonderful, Fiolla. Congratulations. And Murray, I assume you two are a…companionship, now?"

"Yes," Murray confirmed with a nod. "We're engaged to be wed next month."

"And we would be honored if you would attend!" Fiolla said, nodding vigorously. "In addition, if you would like to join us in our hotel room after the reception, we would be honored to host your presence."

Hobbie's jaw briefly dropped, but he recovered quickly. Did she just offer a…no. No, she couldn't have. He shook his head. "I do apologize but I've got… erm… paperwork. On my desk. At work. Important paperwork. Must attend to it quickly, you understand."

Fiolla smiled once more. "Of course, Major. But if you change your mind, you can find us in the Coruscant Grand."

With that, the two Ploomians walked towards their table, but Hobbie could have sworn he saw Murray mouth "help me" before disappearing into the crowd. Heaving a sigh of relief, Hobbie finally made his way to the other Rogues and sat down at their table. The usual pleasantries of a wedding reception were had, from surrogate father Talon Karrde's speech to Han's loving roast of Luke's various exploits. Just as Hobbie thought the speeches were over, Wes Janson stood from his seat at the Rogue table.

"If I can have your attention," Wes said as he stood from his seat. Sitting beside him, Inyri Forge covered her face with the palm of her hand. "It is time to announce the winner of the Jade-Skywalker Marriage Pool."

Mara groaned. "You had a betting pool?"

"They have a betting pool for everything, dear," Luke replied.

"And when did you batch of flying miscreants set this up?" Mara asked, glancing at Wes.

"The day we left Plooma," he responded with a wide grin.

"Were we really that predictable?"

"Yes," Hobbie and several other Rogues responded at the same moment.

Rolling her eyes, Mara waved for Wes to continue. He pulled a tattered sheet of flimsy out of his coat pocket and scanned over it momentarily before letting out an audible sigh. "The winner," he said, "is the good General Wedge Antilles with a guess of fifteen months."

Leia Organa Solo, seated beside Luke, let out a laugh. "I swear, Wedge, sometimes you know my brother better than I do."

"Corellian intuition," Han offered.

Wedge grinned and folded his arms across his chest. "Good executive officers can read their CO's thoughts. For example, right now Luke is thinking a medium-rare bantha steak would be pretty good."

"It's true," Luke deadpanned. "I really could go for a medium-rare bantha steak right now."

"See?" Wedge said before turning to the table of Rogues. "Now as for you lot, pay up."

Grumbling, Hobbie reached into his pocket and retrieved a few credchits, tossing them into the center of the table. He always promised himself never to take part in another squadron betting pool, but someone would always force him into it. There was another two hundred credits he'd never see again. "And thus closes the datapad on our Ploomian adventure," Hobbie said. "May we never speak of that awful experience again."

"Oh come on," Corran said from across the table. "It wasn't so bad."

"I spent two weeks listening to the newly betrothed couple argue like a pair of eight-year-olds, dealing with you encouraging them, and let's not forget I was shot at several times and was forced to engage in a dogfight. Yes, it was that bad."

"If I recall correctly, you had a rather _enjoyable _final evening."

The other Rogues snickered, and Hobbie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, until _you_ ruined it."

"Huh?"

"You know, I wonder," Luke mused aloud, cutting off the two pilots. "What _was_ that precious resource we were fighting for on Plooma? I think the codename was _unobtanium_."

"Oh, that?" Karrde said, entering the conversation. "Deposits of ninety-seven percent sodium chloride."

A hush fell over the Rogues.

"Table salt?" Hobbie said. "Plooma's valuable resource was table salt? Cracken sent us there for table salt?"

"You have to understand," Karrde explained, "at the time there was a pretty severe shortage of salt because of shipping issues in the core."

"I got shot at and broke my ribs over _table salt_?"

Wedge placed a hand on Hobbie's shoulder. "Hobbs, calm down. We couldn't have—"

"Where is he?" Hobbie demanded, bolting out of his seat and picking up a container of salt off the table. "I'm going to shove this so far up his exhaust port his head is going to spin!"

* * *

><p>Later on, after the reception had shifted from dinner to dancing, Karrde waited by himself at the far side of the ballroom for his companion for the evening, Shada D'ukal, to return from the fresher. After a few moments she emerged, along with the bride. They sidled up to him with devious expressions on their faces. "Hello, Karrde," Mara said. "I just ran into Shada in the fresher. I trust that the father of the bride is enjoying the festivities?"<p>

The information broker raised a brow as he took Shada's arm. "Quite." He nodded at her hand. "What do you have there?"

"Oh, this?" Mara questioned innocently. She placed the object in his hand; it was a datacard. "This is my letter of resignation. As of right now, I am officially beginning the process of removing myself from your organization. I'll start training Shada as soon as I return from my honeymoon." Shada turned away as she suppressed a giggle.

Karrde turned the datacard over in his hand a few times, shaking his head in quiet disbelief. Before he could reply Luke appeared beside Mara, linking his arm through his new wife's. "Leia says it's time for the toast," he informed her.

"Of course, love," Mara replied, giving her husband an adoring kiss on the cheek. Luke grinned at her and nodded to Karrde and Shada, then turned to lead Mara towards the dais at the front of the ballroom.

She followed for a few moments, then paused. Very slowly, the newly-minted Mrs. Skywalker glanced over her shoulder and graced Karrde with a coy smile. "Tell me, boss," she said. "Doesn't irony taste delicious?"

**THE (REAL) END**


End file.
